


According to plan

by emimix3



Series: Jacob Zimmermann [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Queer Relationship, Engagement, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Homophobia, Jewish Jack Zimmermann, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Religion, Spoilers, Team as Family, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimix3/pseuds/emimix3
Summary: It's great to be engaged to be married!But now, you must actuallyorganisean entire wedding. And everyone has opinions on how to do so.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Series: Jacob Zimmermann [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1402990
Comments: 143
Kudos: 259





	1. Roomsmen

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I had started to write this and planned to make it a part of one of my series - either [La Terre est Ronde](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245928) or [Jacob Zimmermann](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1402990), but as of the new chapter it could also just be canon compliant. Honestly, the only thing changing would be the timeline.

Bitty had planned it all perfectly.

It had started with baking. Like a good part of his plans, really, but still.

He couldn’t imagine that the baking would be the cause of the downfall of the plan.

But, in the 3 minutes during which Bitty was running after his pet rabbit who hopped in the building hallway when his owner opened the door to let Ransom & Holster in, well… The worse had happened.

When Bitty entered the kitchen, his bunny in his arms, his friends had already attacked the plate of cookies on the table.

“No!”

“What?” Holster asked, the mouth full.

Bitty took the plate away from them, desperate.

“You’re black holes! You see food and you’re annihilating it immediately!”

“But Bitty…”

“We’re so hungry! When you invite us, we don’t eat before because we know you’re gonna feed us good!” Ransom complained.

Bitty shook his head at this afront.

“I’m not y’all’s mom. You can’t steal food on the table without asking if you can have some.”

“Please Bitty, our friend, our frog, can we have the cookies?” Ransom asked.

Finally, slowly, Bitty put the plate back on the table, glaring at his friends who _felt_ that if they reached to take a cookie, Bitty would throw the rabbit on them.

“It’s letters-shaped cookies,” Bitty said.

“Oh! Yes? I hadn’t even noticed,” Holster nodded.

“Really? Y’all have so little respect for my food? I took so much time to bake and ice them all, and you don’t even _look_ at them?”

Bitty sat on the chair across from is friends, petting the rabbit on his lap.

“It was supposed to spell a message for you. But now you destroyed it. I’m disappointed.”

“No, don’t be sad Bitty!” Ransom pressed.

“I’m sure we can still find the message!”

“Yeah, you better,” Bitty frowned. “I didn’t loose all this time for naught.”

It took them ten minutes (and Ransom sneaked one more cookie in his mouth while no one was looking) but they managed to spell out a message in more or less correct English on Bitty’s kitchen table.

“I think we’re good,” Holster said, putting down the question mark (well, the top part only really, the bottom was in one of their stomachs.)

**OUD YO B MY ROMSMEN** **ʔ**

“Oh my God.”

“Bitty! Oh my life!” Holster yelled. “Yes! Of course!”

“Oh my God. Our little frog is now so grown…”

“Of course we’ll help! No need to ask so formally!”

“When is the moving date?” Ransom asked.

Bitty blinked at them. Once. Twice.

“Moving date?”

“Well. The date? Of when you’re moving. You know,” Ransom started.

“So we can be your _roomsmen_. You know. To help you move stuff from one room to another. _'Would you be my roomsmen'_.”

“What? I-” Bitty sighed. “Guys! You ate the G.”

Holster and Ransom frowned at the cookies in front of them.

Finally, Holster tried:

“ _Gould_ you be?”

* * *

Jack was quick to get back home after that, Shitty and Lardo on his heel. The three of them were grinning when they joined Bitty, Ransom and Holster who were hanging out on the couch of the living-room – Jack just kissed Bitty before going to the kitchen to get some tea and coffee for everyone.

“Guys!” Shitty beamed. “You’ll never guess what!”

“I mean. Technically, I can guess pretty easily,” Ransom said, his mouth full of pie. “Bitty invites the two of us here, Jack invited the two of you at the park to take pictures, Bitty asked us to be his groomsmen, I _reckon_ Jack asked you the same.”

“It was cute,” Lardo said, sitting next to Holster. “We took pictures of geese, and then Jack showed them to us, and he flicked through a pic he took before meeting with us, of him holding a sign that reads ‘Yo, will you be my groomsfolks’?”

“Oh really?” Holster bragged, pointing at the plate that Ransom was holding. “Because Bitty asked us with _cookies_.”

“ _Cookies_?” Lardo asked. “Gimme one.”

“No fucking way,” Ransom said, keeping the plate of cookies close to his chest. “It’s _our_ groomsmen cookies. You could have had some if Bitty liked you more.”

“Aw, shit, cookies? I’m so jealous!” Shitty wept. “Jaaaack! Why must you be so _lame_?”

“Fuck you Shits!” Jack cried from the kitchen.

The conversation had calmed down a little by the time Jack arrived in the living-room with a tray of hot drinks. He pushed Bitty a little so he had room to snuggle on the armchair next to him.

“You’re gross. I’m gonna barf,” Holster said, as Jack was handing Bitty a mug of coffee.

“Thank you,” Jack shrugged.

But they weren’t here to chit-chat about life. They had _important stuff_ to do. Shitty cleared his throat to get the attention on him.

He had lost his shirt.

“Ok so. Let’s talk business. Rans and Holster are Bitty’s _groomsmen_ , right? And Lardo and I are Jack’s. So… _Who_ are you best men.”

Bittle rolled his eyes.

“What are you trying to achieve, Shits.”

“There’s best men hidden somewhere, right? Like, for instance… Someone everyone here knows well. And who is misguided about being ‘Jack’s best friend’. When _I_ am. For instance.”

“Shitty, we don’t have best men,” Jack said. “Here; that’s the entire wedding party. You all are our groomsfolk and our best folks, all in one. Because we love you and you’re all our best friends.”

Shitty put both his hands on his heart, whining a small “ _Jack…”_

“Listen,” Jack added. “I love Tater, really. But it’s not the same than with you guys. We’re… We’re the _squad_.

“We didn’t really want to have a ‘my side, his side’. We really just want to have ‘our side’,” Bitty explained. “So we took our four favourite people.”

“Jack, Bitty, you’re touching me. Right in my heart,” Ransom said.

“Yeah, I tend to do that.”

“All that’s cute and emotional,” Lardo cut off, her phone in hand, “but let’s talk logistics. I need to know when I have to take days off.”

Thankfully for them, Bitty and Jack had already started to think a lot about the wedding, that they wanted to have next summer.

“You already booked a botanical garden?” Ransom asked, going through pictures of the place on Bitty’s laptop.

“Yep,” Bitty replied. “It’s a small one, but Jack and I fell in love with it when we first went there. There’s a greenhouse and ponds and room to set a tent outside… I knew from the first time I saw this place that I wanted to get married there.”

“Not a rink?” Holster chirped.

“My parents got married in a rink,” Jack said. “I will _not_ do the same. Plus we want the ceremony and the reception to be held at the same place…”

“And there’s a _big_ Bed&Breakfast right by it for guests,” Bitty pointed out. “But it’s close enough to Boston and Providence that people can just go back home after the party.”

“Those pictures are _great_ ,” Lardo said. “Really cosy and homey. Doesn’t seem to have a lot of room, though…”

Bitty nodded.

“Yeah. We have a hard limit of 30 guests.”

Holster gasped at that. He turned towards Jack, totally _appalled._

“ _Jack._ You’re getting married _and you’re not inviting your entire family?_ You’re NUTS. You’re gonna die. Bubbe will be _disappointed_ in you. Do you want to _disappoint_ Bubbe?”

“Well, two of the three grandparents I have left can’t travel because of their health, so,” Jack shrugged. “And we really, really don’t want a big party. And you know how it is, if I invite one cousin I have to invite them all…”

“Do you have that many cousins?” Lardo asked.

“Well, my father is one of seven kids and my mother one of five.”

“Same here,” Bitty added.

Yep, Holster had to admit that he understood. If they started to invite them all they could, with no problem, reach 200 guests. Which is less than ideal if you want a small, intimate party.

“So guys. What do you expect from us?” Lardo asked, her notes app open on her phone.

“Uh, very little help to be honest,” Jack started.

“We just need you to keep our moms away.”

“Sounds easy,” Holster said.

“I wish I had your innocence…” Bitty sighed.


	2. STDs

24 hours exactly after Bitty and Jack got engaged, Suzanne and Alicia each had sent, separately, full Pinterest boards and a draft of a menu for the former and a list of venues and ideas for the later. Needless to say, the ideas of one clashed horribly with the other’s. And even more needless to say, they were both _light years_ away from what Bitty and Jack wanted.

They ignored their moms for a while, noncommittally saying they’ll go through what they send, but once they took the time to talk about it all, well. It was clear, for the two of them, that they wanted to plan the whole thing themselves. It was _their_ wedding, to celebrate _their_ union, they didn’t want centrepieces made of _pink peonies_ because Alicia wanted so. They didn’t want to marry in a Georgia church. They didn’t want to have to debate all of their choices and make concessions on how their wedding would be like to appease their moms.

Because, truly, they loved their mothers. But they both also knew that they were _way_ too intense and they wouldn’t leave them alone if they started to have a bit of leeway. Give a hand, take the arm, all that.

They talked to their friends about it all, and they all agreed that they needed to set boundaries _now_ with them. Something like _“We love you, but no, we don’t want an engagement party, we don’t want a bridal shower, we don’t want your opinions, we don’t want advice. Let us do our thing.”_

It was easier said than done. But still, they needed to be clear. 

* * *

So, when they visited Montréal and Alicia and Bob (seriously. Bob may have not sent emails, but he also had too many opinions.) started to talk about guest lists, Bitty just kicked Jack under the table. His monkeys, his circus.

“The problem with my sister – she won’t come if we invite Daniel too,” Alicia was saying, a handwritten long, long list in front of her. “But I mean – he may be her ex, but he’s way more family to me than she is, honestly-”

“That’s nice,” Jack said. “You’re organising a party?”

Alicia and Bob took their eyes off Alicia’s list, both of them squinting at their son. They _knew_. They _knew_ what Jack was doing. But Jack had learnt his lines exactly for this moment.

“Yes. Your wedding,” Bob replied, short.

“That’s nice of you. But we’ll come to you if we need any help.”

“Jack.”

“M’man. It’s our wedding. It’s our job to plan it.”

“Your grandmothers basically planned our whole wedding, you know,” Alicia said.

“Okay. Sorry you missed your chance. But it’s Bitty and I’s wedding and we want to do it ourselves. If you want the wedding of your dreams, well, you can always plan a vow renewal.”

“Jack. With the season, your jobs, you’ll never have the time to plan it all-” Bob began.

“Too bad for us. We’ll call if we need help.”

“Jack.”

“ _Lalala I can’t hear you._ ”

It wasn’t the most mature way to end the conversation, but that would be enough for a week or two. Finding other ways to shut them down was Future Jack’s problem.

* * *

“It _is_ a lot of work,” Jack said one day, as soon as Bitty was coming back from work.

Bity had found a gig as a tutor in a small cooking school downtown. He only gave classes here two or three times a week, because at the same time, he was trying to work more on his YouTube channel, and his first cookbook had been an okay success but he was already starting to write another…

Yeah, he was working a _lot_ those days. Jack too felt like he sent more time at the rink than at home – today was an exception, and he had spent the afternoon cross-legged on the couch, going through hundred of websites just to find _ideas_ of what kind of _music_ they’d could have for the wedding.

Bitty didn’t reply right away. He stopped by the kitchen first and took a 6-pack out of the fridge before joining Jack on the couch, exhausted.

“I’m going to hire Dex to help me with my editing,” Bitty just said, while Jack cracked open beers for them both.

“He’s still a student. And the captain of the team? He probably doesn’t have much time.”

“He _has_ an underpaid online job he does on roadies,” Bitty shrugged, taking the beer Jack was handing him. “And we had talked about it once or twice. And, I mean, he’ll probably cost me almost everything I manage to earn with the channel, but hey. And I’d still do most of the editing, so that it wouldn’t take him more time than what he already does, but those ten hours a week that it would free me? That’s ten hours when I could _sleep_ , Jack.”

“Or when you could _wedding plan_.”

“Oh, shit. Don’t tell me about that. See? Once again Dex is the solution. He eloped to avoid wedding planning. We should elope too.”

“Shh, Bits. You like planning it all as much as I do, I know it. It’s just… Way more time than what we both expected.”

“ _Way more._ ”

“I’m still not ready to give up and give any leeway to our moms.”

“Oh God, Sweetpea, no indeed, tha’s out of the question.”

Jack took a long sip at his beer, sighing.

“I tried to search for caterers that could work for what we want. And then tried to look around for bands, or DJs, or whatever we’d like for the music. It took me _hours_ , Bits. I both find nothing and way too many things.”

“How bad is it?”

“I have a full Excel document listing everyone. Now we have to sort everyone out, and to _call_ those we’re interested in and try to set up _appointments_ and all that.”

“Urgh.”

Urgh, indeed. Jack wasn’t even sure if what he had made this afternoon could count as progress.

“We could maybe…” Bitty tried. “Hire a wedding planner?”

“Bits, isn’t our thing that we want to plan?”

“Yeah, but. I like the _fun_ parts. Like deciding the kind of music I want, trying to set up a menu, imagining how we’ll put the decorations, all that. The boring part? Looking for vendors – good vendors, when we know _none of them_ – and setting up meetings and all that? It’s not only that I _don’t_ like it. But we don’t have the _time_. So we could, like… Hire someone to do the boring part, ya know? With money. Money that we have in huge quantities.”

Bitty was starting to ramble. If he was like that after half a beer, he was really _exhausted_.

“For example,” Jack started. “We’d tell the guy: okay, so we want a caterer that can keep kosher _and_ make great vegetarian dishes, an open bar with at least four options of gin-”

“Fuck yeah. Gin.”

“- _this_ kind of music, and blue napkins, so please find everything for us?”

“Yeah? Like. They would be a first filter, you know? We’d say ‘we want an officiant who can do a backflip mid-ceremony’ and they’d find the ones that would fit our vision and we’d just have to pick in this very limited selection. Plus, they’d know all the good vendors of New England and all the ones we shouldn’t work with. And they could handle the whole administrative part for us.”

“Oh, well. That sounds like paradise.”

“I know, right?” Bitty said, beaming. “And also- let’s be real, our friends are nice, but I’m not even sure any of them ever _went_ to a wedding. I’d like someone who knows this stuff to be able to tell us: ‘okay guys, cool but a petting zoo in the middle of the dancefloor is the tackiest and worse idea I’ve ever seen. Don’t do that.’”

“But at the same time,” Jack added. “I want to be able to say back ‘Well we do this tacky shit anyway’ if we really, _really_ want to do it.”

“Yeees! Exactly Jack!”

Okay, so. A wedding planner. That was a grand idea. Now, well.

“… I guess we have to search of a wedding planner now,” Jack sighed, already looking at his laptop in despair. “And filter them, and call around, and make an appointment.”

* * *

“Dicky. It’s my job as a mother-”

Oh, boy. Five minutes into the phone call and Bitty already wanted to throw himself through the window. Sadly, the cooking school was on the first floor, so it wouldn’t hurt much.

“Mama. It’s not. Truly. And we’re paying for it all anyway. So really, we get to choose everything.”

“You mean _Jack_ is paying for it?”

Oh. Ooooh, low blow. Oooh oh.

Bitty didn’t like this tone, really.

“Mother. _We_ are paying for it. And I’m not going to talk to you about how Jack and I manage our finances, be it now or once we’re married. We hire an advisor for that.”

“I’m just-”

“End of discussion. I won’t be talking wedding or financial decisions with you. I’m only gonna share what I want to.”

Fuck. Bitty was in a sour mood now, and his class was starting in ten minutes.

* * *

They met with two wedding planners already. Neither really _vibed_ with them. It was… They had opinions on weddings, that didn’t sit perfectly with Bitty and Jack.

They decided to meet a third and last one, and if it didn’t work for them, they’d continue alone. Coordinating everything wasn’t that hard anyway, was it? (It was. It truly was.)

They met with Alan in his office one morning. The guy was in his thirty’s, nice and courteous, dressed impeccably, all in casual elegance with a shirt that complemented perfectly his brown skin, a flashy cardigan, a neatly trimmed beard; and his office was full of files, knick-knacks and pictures of the various couples who hired him – but it was a smaller picture, on his desk, that grabbed Bitty’s attention.

“You and your husband?” he asked, pointing the picture.

“Oh. Yes. We got married two years ago.”

“How was your wedding?” Jack asked.

“Oh, you’re kidding right? We eloped. No way we’d organise a _wedding_. Do you know how much work it is?”

Yep. They’ll work well with Alan.

* * *

**Ransom, Holster, Bitty**

_Bitty_  
>> Are you Haus

_Ransom_  
> yeah sure why  
> we’re playing MK8

_Bitty_  
>> im here in 10

_Ransom_  
> let yourself in bro

Bitty arrived at the Haus 2.0 exactly 10 minutes after, with an angry face –

And dyed hair. Dark purple undercut and roots, then orange, then yellow at the tips.

“Oh, wow.” Holster said, as Bitty plopped on the couch between Ransom and him.

“Fits you well, bro.”

“ _Thank you_. I’ve been to this one barbershop in Boston – anyway. My mom pissed me off.”

Holster paused the game, and bent over to reach a small box under the couch. The weed stash.

“Wanna calm down?”

“Yes, but no. I need to go back home tonight. Jack’s on a roadie and the rabbits will get hungry.”

“Uh, stay over. Lardo can feed them, she has to drive to Providence to drop something for her boss anyway.”

“You’re like the devil and the angel on my shoulders, but you’re both frat bros.”

“S’wawesome, it’s my new Insta bio now,” Ransom laughed.

Bitty let them finish their race while they passed each other the joint before saying anything. Nothing like watching Mario Kart to mellow you down.

“So, bro, what did your mom say _this time_?” Ransom finally asked, once he got beaten fair and square.

“You say that as if she had an habit to piss me off.”

Ransom and Holster looked at each other, awkwardly.

“What.”

“Mmh, Bitty, you _do_ text us on a regular basis to complain about your parents.”

“She’s my mom. Of course I have a lot to complain about what she says, does or thinks.”

“Mmh, maybe,” Ransom, who never complained about his mom three times a month on the groupchat, said, knowing full well it wasn’t going anywhere. “So, what did she do?”

“I -Take my phone,” Bitty just shrugged, not wanting to move because he was comfortably sitting on the couch and he had the joint in hand.

Holster took it and unlocked it.

“Whatsapp, the convo with just her.”

Bitty had send his mom a picture of his new hair colour, right after the barber had washed it.

Suzanne had _flipped_.

“Oh, wow,” Holster said, reading the texts.

“Holster, move, I wanna see too,” Ransom said, pushing Holster to have some room next to him. “Oh, wow. I think she doesn’t like the makeover.”

“Oh, you reached the ‘she’s ashamed’ part?” Bitty asked.

“No, it was the ‘This is TOO MUCH’.”

“The ‘basting in your face’ part is good too,” Holster added. “And don’t listen to her, your wedding pictures will be _great_ , not _ridiculous_.”

“I mean. It’ll be long gone by the time of the wedding,” Bitty said. “She’s like… Picking so many fights those days. I know Jack is at his wit’s end with her, he doesn’t even want to participate in FaceTimes with her. Last week she told me she was angry at him for not asking for their permission before proposing…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I told him about it, he started to rant that he was marrying me, not them, and that besides how little he thought about this tradition, he wouldn’t ask any permission to people I was terrified to come out to and who made me cry so much.”

Bitty stayed silent a few seconds.

“I’m starting to realise that my relationship with my parents is just playing pretend.”

“How that?”

“Me, pretend to be straight for years, them, pretend to not even think I could be gay, then them, pretend to be okay that I am, and me, pretend to not notice how awkward and ignorant they still are. It’s so… _Shallow_. Like, my mom was my best friend, but I never had other friends. I’ve never been honest with her. Seriously, like. When Jack first came in Georgia when we just got together, same-gender marriage got legalised in all the country, so of course it had been a debate during the family barbecue… Mama and Coach were like ‘yeeeah, well, I don’t really understand why they need that, I mean the Bible says, blabla’, and, okay, they want to show they changed and to help their son organising his gay wedding, but fuck. I can’t forget it, even if I try.”

“Is it that bad?” Ransom asked.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Fuck- If I wasn’t dating _Jack Zimmermann_ , it would be worse, that’s for sure. And they do try! But I feel like they’re just _trying¸_ you know-”

“To look good?”

“Yep. My mom has always been about appearances. Her favourite colour is yellow, but she’d never paint the garden shed yellow because the neighbours would find it tacky, you know? Or, it’s important to go to church, but it’s just as important to be seen at the post-church lunch.”

“Or, her son is gay, but he shouldn’t look _too_ gay. Like, with bright coloured hair.”

“Yeeeah. You nailed it, Holster. And she’s nice about Jack because he’s rich and famous so even if he’s a guy, he probably brings more positive reactions than bad ones and how could she live if _Alicia and Bob Zimmermann_ think she’s a bitch.”

“Guys,” Ransom stopped them. “Bitty, you’re angry, Holster, you’re enabling him. She’s your mom. It’s probably not that bad.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Bitty admitted. “But like. She got me angry so it’s like – right now, I could manage to criticise the way she eats crackers.”

“May I?” Ransom asked, taking Bitty’s phone.

“Yeah, only her Whatsapp conversation.”

“How does she eats crackers?” Holster asked, the joint in hand.

“Oh God. It’s so _annoying-”_

Ransom looked at the history of the past weeks between Bity and his mom – skimming through it, not sure of what to look for.

“Mmh, Bits-” Ransom finally said, cutting them off. “I think your mom is a bit of a bitch.”

“Why?”

“Well, hum- She never used the word ‘wedding’. Or ‘marriage’. Or ‘fiancé’. It’s ‘reception’, ‘union’, and ‘Jack’. But like. She’s talking about your cousin’s _wedding_ right here, and, well…”

“Fuck it.”

“At least, she does try to be involved?” Ransom said. “Maybe she just needs some more time…”

“For what, get over it? I sure hope she will. _Fuck_. She’s my Mama…”

* * *

**SQUAD – Wedding Extravaganza Bungaloo**

_Bitty_  
>> Here the kind of RSVP we would like. What do you think?  
>>   
>> You’ll excuse this unbalanced shit with bad fonts but I put it together in 5 minutes from a thing I ripped from the internet but that’s the kind of vibe we’re aiming for  
>> Of course there will be no butterfly because Jack’s phobia didn’t get anybetter  
>> But that’s what we’d like. Plants bc we’re getting married in a garden. One color. We’ve seen stuff on recycled brown paper so why no something like that? Also stuff bookmark-sized that seemed interesting  
>> Anyway, Lardo, I know that’s absolutely not the kind of thing you do but do you know a graphist we could work with

_Holster_  
> Terrible lack of hockey

_Jack_  
> Yes that’s the point

_Lardo_  
> Actually yeah, I know an old classmate who makes stuff that could work for you. I’ll send you her portfolio when I’m home 

_Ransom_  
> I love how samples now are open minded

_Shitty_  
> Oh yes true!!! Heterosexuality not being the default

_Jack_  
> What are you talking about.

_Shitty_  
> … Eric & Jacob?? Instead of, idk, Sarah & Chirstian?

_Bitty_  
>> …  
>> That’s not the sample. That’s our names.  
>> Eric & Jacob.

_Lardo_  
> … what

_Ransom  
_> !!!???

_Holster_  
> … Bitty your first name is Jacob?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i mention i liked family drama


	3. Shorts

“Moomaw is uninvited from the wedding!” Bitty yelled from the kitchen, before walking -fast- towards the guest room, where Jack was running on the treadmill.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jack just managed to say before Bitty threw his phone on the bed, and he sprinted -just as fast- to their bedroom.

The phone was unlocked on Moomaw’s Facebook page, where she had apparently just shared a sermon from a pastor. Jack didn’t want to play the video, but the summary was enough to guess it wasn’t exactly queer-friendly.

Bitty had commented a “Is that a joke”, to which Moomaw had commented back that she loved him, that his ‘boy’ was a brave soul too, and she just prayed their sickness would go away.

There was a Messenger bubble with Moomaw’s face in a corner too, but Jack didn’t want to open it. He locked the phone, and made his way to the bedroom to hug his fiancé.

* * *

“Do you already have an officiant?” Alan had asked during one of their appointments, as he was entering Jack and Bitty’s schedules on his computer.

“Mmh. No. We haven’t discussed it yet,” Jack said.

“Try to choose quick – or at least, if you want something fancy, religious, fun, casual, quick. The tone of the ceremony will set the tone of the reception.”

They had the discussion in the car to go back home. Wasn’t the best place, but hey.

“I want a religious wedding,” Jack said.

Bitty, who was driving, didn’t react in any way.

“Yeah, I guessed you would,” he just said.

“What do _you_ want?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I don’t really know _what_ happens in a Jewish wedding. I only went to one, your cousin’s last year- and I was so overwhelmed about meeting your extended family that I didn’t really follow what was happening. Your dad and uncles _did_ wear weird hats, though.”

“Ah. It’s a shtreimel. It’s, uhm- Something that basically only Orthodox men wear, and it was my Orthodox’ cousin wedding, so. My father turned to Conservatism years before I was born, so he won’t be wearing it for our wedding, don’t worry. And, well- the ceremony _would_ look quite different to my cousin’s, too. Like my parents, I’m Conservative, and you’re not Jewish. So _technically_ , we can’t have a _Jewish_ wedding, _buuut_ I know my Rabbi officiated some interfaith weddings, so.”

“What Jewish parts do you want and don’t you want? I’m telling you, right away – I don’t want something too religious, with a lot of Bible reading and prayers. And I do want we write our own vows, and that we walk down the aisle together. Oh, and I remember at your cousin’s wedding, your mom had mentioned separate tables and dancefloors for men and women were a thing that existed sometimes? That’s a _no._ ”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m attached about some of the customs, you know? The Huppa -it’s, you know, the canopy? We can decorate it how we want. And the Ketuba, of course; it’s a contract…”

“Yeah, I remember you gushing about how your cousin’s contract was so beautiful.”

“They’re works of art. There’s interfaith ones – we can personalise it, make it as or as little religious as we want it to, in English or in French or in Hebrew. And – traditionally there’s no vows in Jewish weddings, but we definitely could add some. I don’t especially want to make it all overtly pious, but it’s – those things, and the Kiddush, the seven blessings, all those customs, and well, the religious meaning too – it means a lot to me.”

“Let’s talk about it all with your rabbi sometime this week, okay? I’m sure we’ll find what works for us both.”

* * *

“Do you plan to get married in Providence or in Montreal? My friend Céline had organised a party in this _sumptuous_ venue, and-”

Of course. Jack should have seen it coming. His mom usually phoned on Fridays, Sundays and sometimes on Wednesdays. _Never_ on Mondays. Of course something was up.

“You can easily fit, two, maybe three hundred people in there- I know Eric has a big family too, so-”

“Thank you. We got the venue covered.”

“ _What_? Already?”

“Yes. Near Providence,” Jack said. And then, to make sure his mom understood it wasn’t the start of a debate: “We signed the contract a few weeks ago. I can send you some pictures if you want.”

“ _Ah._ ”

“It’s nice. Cosy.” And then, the bombshell; “Small.”

“Small… How.”

Jack sighed.

“We’re inviting like, twenty-ish people.”

“Twenty-ish… One hundred and twenty-ish?”

“M’man. Don’t play stupid. You’re not Papa, I don’t believe it one second.”

“Why so little?”

“We fell in love with this venue and it has a hard limit at thirty guests. And anyway, even without _this_ venue, we’d have kept it small. Only people who are close to the _both_ of us. So, mostly college friends, some Falconers. You two, Bitty’s parents. The grandparents can’t travel anyway, and it’d be a destination wedding for so many people, and that’s a lot to ask… And we just want to keep it small, fuck. We don’t want to get hitched in front of two hundred people we never saw before.”

Maman stayed silent for a while.

“You’re really sure about it all, uh? You don’t need us at all.”

“No, we don’t. We’ve got a wedding planner helping us out to save us time, and our friends are here too.”

“It’s good, it’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“It’s just… I wish I could help. I love you, I love Eric, and I really want to help you to have the perfect wedding.”

“The perfect wedding is the one we want, you know? It’s just that… You, and papa, and Bitty’s mom, you’re way to _intense_ and you’d have taken over the whole thing, and gotten angry when things don’t go your way. And you know that.”

“Mmh.”

Jack smiled. His mom didn’t have ill intentions, after all.

“That being said… If you still want to help, Bittle and I had a discussion, that you could probably help with – we’d like _advice_ , on which tailors we could work with for the suits…”

“Ah, advice about fashion. That I can do.”

* * *

“Guest list!” Jack shouted as soon as he entered the apartment.

“Guest list!” Bitty shouted back from the living-room.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, brushing one of their two rabbits, a paper with names right in front of him. Jack had his own guest list in hand, just finished during down time at the rink between practice and a meeting with the trainers. Jack sat right in front of him, a bit excited.

Choosing only around twenty people was an ordeal, so they decided to take 24 hours separately to each make a fifteen people list. If someone were on both lists, they were invited, if someone were on only one list, they would discuss it. The graphist was working on the Save The Date’s and the invitations, so they needed to settle the list now.

“Ok, so,” Jack started. “First I put the rabbi to not forget. He’s gonna say ‘thanks but I can’t stay for more than a drink or two’, I can tell you.”

“Yep, ‘the officiant’ is here on my list too. All the wedding websites _and Alan_ told me we should.”

“My parents…”

“Alicia, Bob, here on my list too; then, my parents…”

“I didn’t put them.”

Bitty stopped to brush the bunny.

“You didn’t put my parents on your guest list.”

“Bits…”

“Jack.”

“It’s just,” Jack tried. “I wanted to talk about them, okay? I know they’re your parents. And as such they’ll be the first ones on the waiting list once we’re done with people we both agreed on, so _of course_ they’ll end up being here. But parents or not, I’m really not their biggest fan right now.”

“Is that the whole Moomaw disaster?”

“Mmh, well, first it was that your mom refuses to listen to you when you tell her to back off, and that she makes you angry more often than not those days – but yeah, the fact that they both tried to push under the rug the whole Moomaw thing is not helping.”

“They’re still my parents.”

“Yeah, and they’ll be here. But I’m not impressed by the shit they’re pulling.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bitty sighed. “Me neither. Fuck, it’s only now that I’m an adult that I realise that my mom is acting sometimes like she’s still the prom queen. And my dad has no opinions, he’s just. Here. Follows the lead.”

“It’s a mess like. Your mom is in between not accepting this gay wedding and wanting to make it perfect to show off. Your dad isn’t saying anything. That’s really not a situation that can stay like that, they need to snap out of it, like, _yesterday_.”

“Yes. I know. I wish. So. My parents are on the top of the ‘to discuss’ list. Do you have any other people that you _know_ will end up there?”

“Kent.”

“Yep, we definitely have to discuss, so let’s focus first on who we’re gonna agree on,” Bitty said, noting everything done while Jack was taking over the rabbit-brushing. “Ollie and Wicks, of course…”

“Oh, yes, definitely. And the Frogs and Farmer.”

“I put the Tadpoles, too…”

“I didn’t.”

“Jack; Dex and Whiskey are _married_ , we can’t only invite one of them.”

“Well, you got some arguments for the discussion to come…”

“I only put Georgia and Tater from the Falconers,” Bitty said.

“I also put Snowy, Thirdy and Marty. With a lot of parenthesises, because Marty won’t be here this summer, he told me already, and I didn’t know if we should count their wives in the 15-list or not…”

“Well, no?” Bitty tried. “With 15-people lists, there _should_ be enough room to have spouses and long-term partners as +1s… I hope? I mean, it’s 30 guests maximum… Our groomsfolks are four…”

“Fuck, we made this rule to avoid having to calculate, and now we have to calculate.”

“It’s okay. We can do it. We’re gays, not idiots, we can do maths!”

After an hour, the guest list was finished, calculated, closed. Everyone that had been on Bitty or Jack’s list made it, twenty-six guests, including +1s for people in long-term relationships, they would not have to change ever again.

* * *

**SQUAD – Wedding Extravaganza Bungaloo**

_Jack_  
>> Guys. Help Bittle & i settle an argument.

_Shitty_  
> 1) your on a roadie it’s thnot the moment to get into arguments with any1 esp not your bette rhalf

> 2) wat now

_Bitty_  
> SOMEONE thinks I should not bake out wedding cake

_Lardo_  
> AH.

_Ransom_  
> No offense but im not paid im not getting into this argument

_Holster_  
> On the contrary im so getting ito it brb gotta grab chips

_Shitty_  
> Okay so. What r ur arguments  
> first jack he started the convo

_Lardo_  
> I didn’t plan to spend my Monday night like that  
> I have dongs to paint$

_Jack_  
>> Okay so.  
>> My argumentation is easy:  
>> 1) Time. It takes a L O T of time. And time, in the few days before the wedding, is something we’ll definitely be lacking. I don’t want to find him at 4 am in the kitchen baking the day before the wedding  
>> 2) Stress. Of course we want it to be as perfect as possible. So it’ll be really stressful. And then again, we’ll be stressed enough already as it is. And bitty and stress don’t work well together  
>> 3) Skills. No offense Bitty, I love you – but your speciality is pies. You’ve never done a tiered, decorated cake for 30 people. And if we decide to do wedding pies – it’s a LOT of pies to do  
>> end of my argumentation

_Shitty_  
> okay, fair points. Bitty?

_Bitty_  
> URGH.  
> I wan to bake the cake or pie or whatever – because I’m a BAKER!!!! Of course I want to do it myself!!! I want to try to make _the_ cake that would symbolise us both and our union!! How do you want me to trust the first random baker to just GET what I want?

_Jack_  
>> *We want  
>> because personally, I want a not-stressed and well-rested husband  
>> And it doesn’t have to be a rando?? Bitty, it’s the occasion of a lifetime  
>> We could hire ANYONE  
>> I’m sure you have bakers you always dreamt to work with? When would you have another occasion to hire them.??  
>> Plus it’s our wedding dessert, so not only hire them but actually be a part of the creative process and all that

_Shitty_  
> That’s good points for both arguments

_Bitty_  
> Of course hiring a master baker would be GREAT, culinary speaking. But I really like fact of actually BAKING for our wedding more  
>Even if I know that it’s not a great idea and I know I’ll be stressed and if I mess up there won’t be any dessert at all

_Lardo_  
> we’re looping guys

_Holster_  
> may I   
> There could be a compromise here

_Jack_  
>> could there  
>> to bake or not to bake that is the question

_Holster_  
> haha  
> Like.  
> You could hire the chef of bits dreams. Do the best cake. That’ s a one in alifetime chance indeed. And stress-free. There will be cake and a delicious one at that  
> and you could also do pies? Like mini pies you bake yourself. If you manage to find the time to do them it’s great, there’s more food!!! If you don’t have the time, or mess them or anything, well, only the six of us will know that the pies could have existed and we won’t tell anyone

_Shitty_  
> oh good

_Ransom_  
> we just had a mediation seminary at work

_Bitty_  
> mmh  
> I like this idea

_Jack_  
>> me too.

_Bitty_  
> Okay then. Good.

_Jack_  
>> Good.

_Lardo_  
> Good?

_Jack_  
>> Hey bits

_Bitty_  
> ?

_Jack_  
>> maybe we could bake the mini pies together :-)

_Bitty  
_ > ❤️❤️

_Holster_  
> we’re still here guys

* * *

“God, suits. Yes, it’s better we start to shop,” Bitty complained, during their appointment with Alan.

“I thought you loved suits and fancy clothes,” Jack laughed.

“I do, _but_ , you know very well that I hate _shopping_. And the mere thought of having to wear _suit pants_ during _summer_ makes me die inside.”

“You really became a true Northerner,” Jack said. “Can’t wear trousers or you’d be _too warm._ ”

“Don’t tell me, sweetpea. I changed, and not in pretty ways.”

“You can just, you know. Wear shorts,” Alan shrugged, sipping his coffee.

“At my _wedding_? Do you want my mama to cry?”

“Well. It’s 2018. You’re rich, you’re gay; you can dress exactly how you want.”

Bitty rolled his eyes at that.

“Sorry, but I grew up in Bum-nowhere, Georgia. I have been to more than one wedding with a groom straight out of high school wearing _shorts_. This is _not_ the brand of tacky I want to be recognised for.”

“Well, they make suit-shorts combo now,” Alan supplied, turning his computer screen so they could see a few pictures from Google.

Jack and Bitty looked at a few, especially the ones that Alan was enlarging.

“Fuck that’s cute.”

“That’s _mega-cute_ ,” Bitty corrected.

“I mean, we haven’t talked about the dress code yet because you didn’t have your suits, but with an informal, business casual code it could work. And you’re only with friends, so I doubt you’d require black tie…”

“Hide the cute suits away,” Bitty said, hiding the screen with his hands. “I’m not getting married in shorts.”

* * *

Ok so.

One of the tailors in New York that Alicia had recommended made really cute, and _classy_ , short suits. Bitty asked to try one on, “just to see”, but he knew at the second he saw it that he’d be wearing exactly that for his wedding. Or, actually, something that is not _this_ fabric because it was totally clashing with their colours, but the idea was here.

Jack opted for a suit similar, but cut a bit differently, and of course, actual pants. They’ll still have to come a few times, for adjustments, but honestly Bitty was happy to have found their suits so easily.

“So, what is your wedding palette?” the tailor asked, while measuring Jack.

“Around Samwell re-, mmh, _dark_ red, and natural, you know?” Bitty replied. “Like, coral, greys, washed browns and greens, pale yellows.”

“Oh, good. A wide range. You’d never guess the number of people who are like, ‘my wedding colour is _lapis-lazuli_. So _every single thing_ must be _lapis-lazuli_. And I’m not saying that to throw shade at anyone, such as, for instance, my wife’s sister.”

“Oh, boy.”

“They had only one colour. So you could _see_ it wasn’t the same exact shade everywhere. Disastrous. But hum… Discreet, earthy colours. That’s good.”

“Yup,” Bitty hummed.

“Your hair is flashy,” the tailor suddenly asked, pointing at Bitty’s purple and orange hair, “But is it going to stay this way?”

“Uh- It’ll be washed out by then.”

“Yeah, well, stick to coral or light green for your wedding, please.”

“Mmh. I’ll probably stay natural, thankyouverymuch,” Bitty frowned.

“Your loss. Anyway; I’ve got a lot of fabrics for you to choose. We should stay around greys or browns as the main colour though, and something simple, or else you’ll look like a lost kid.”

Bitty smiled painfully.

“You’re into good hands, don’t worry,” the tailor said.

* * *

**SQUAD – Wedding Extravaganza Bungaloo**

_Bitty_  
>> When are yall available for a fitting session…

_Lardo_  
>

_Holster_  
> Nooo

_Bitty_  
>> … IN NEW YORK

_Lardo_  
> !!!!!!!!!!!!

_Holster_  
> YEP

_Ransom_  
> Y E S

_Jack_  
> Bitty and I went for our first appointment for our suits this afternoon, and we want the tailors to do your suits too  
> the guy is…. Well he works well. But he’s… special  
> how do I send pictures  
> Bittle

_Bitty_  
>> Jack.  
>> [Picture of Bittle wearing a non-fitted black short suit]  
>> Jack has the pics of the fabrics we want, so you’ll have to wait for him to remember how to send them.  
>> [Picture of Jack wearing also a short suit.]

_Ransom_  
>

_Shitty_  
> Bitty you’re sexy as hell  
> Jack you’re… brave

_Holster_  
> Jack you look like a 30yo virgin boyscout tryin everything to get some

_Bitty  
_ >> Oh my god 😂😂😂

_Jack_  
> I just tried it on as a joke, I’ll be wearing a perfectly normal suit, thank you very much….

_Lardo_  
> But the short looks suits you so well bitty!!!! Cute, but sexy

_Shitty_  
> Yeah!!!!

_Lardo_  
> sultry, but not too much. You know things, but you won’t tell them.

_Bitty_  
>> Thank you  
>> Anyway. For your own suits, it’ll be simple suits in one of the fabrics Jack will send you, we let you choose

_Ransom_  
> Can we have shorts too.

_Holster_  
> You’re not wearing salmon shorts at a formal even, Ransom

_Bitty_  
>> You shush!!! If he wants to he can have shorts

_Shitty_  
> u wont see me wear shorts that for sure  
> only thign worse thn pants r shorts

_Jack_  
> For Lardo, it’s as you want. Suit or dress in the colours. If you want a dress, you tell us where to get it and we’ll go

_Lardo_  
> TBH im not sure  
> Like, bridesmaid dresses all look like curtains

_Ransom_  
> Bridesmaid often have a lot of bodytypes, so the curtains are the best (and yet, the worst) option to fit them all

_Jack_  
> Yeah no, you’d chose the cut, just in one of the colours. It’s not like you’d have to wear an uniform haha  
> I mean except if one of the guys want a dress too. Do any of you want a dress too.  
> Well even then I guess we’d let you choose the cut

_Lardo_  
> Yeah so that’s cool. But at the same time. If I don”t get a tailored suit now, when will i.  
> A tailored SHORT SUIT.  
> like it’s now or never  
> but idk if suits look good on me

_Bitty_  
>> You can try at the appointment & if it doesn’t work for you you get a dress

_Lardo_  
> Yeah sounds good  
> So for the date, let me find my schedule so I can tell you all my free weekends….


	4. Peanut & Mango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, the fic will have 6 and not 5 chapters in the end!  
> Next chapter should arrive some time later, once I'm done with my exams - I'm gonna focus on others projects during this week.
> 
> Also, this chapter deals a lot about food.

**From** : suzannembittle@gmail.com **  
To** : eric.bittle@gmail.com

**Subject: ??????????**

Hi Dicky

I do not understand a single word????? I don’t know what she wants us to do!

> **From** : atsila.benzaoud-z@outlook.ca  
>  **To** : suzannembittle@gmail.com  
>  **Subject** : Tna’im
> 
> Shalom Suzanne,
> 
> The wedding is getting closer and Robert and I would love to discuss it all with Richard and you. We’d love to do so in a ceremony of tna’im! It’s usually done during a l’chaim but they didn’t throw one, so we could instead just meet up soon, either in Georgia, in Providence or in Montréal, whatever works best for you. Of course, both the shtar tna’im and the kinyan would just be symbolic, but it’s a good occasion if any to meet up before the big day!
> 
> Alicia
> 
> PS – don’t worry, we will bring the china to break
> 
> _ Sent with Outlook for Android _

“Jaaaaack! Tell your mom to stop using Jewish words with no explanation just to antagonise mine!”

* * *

“My dad asked about the caterer today,” Jack said, while he and Bitty were eating dinner.

“Oh? Okay. Good ask, or…?”

“Yeah. He got the RSVP this morning, and he was telling me about how cool it was that it was a dairy menu, ‘because with meat menus in weddings the desserts are always subpar’, and then he began to rant about the fish option and how it is a dish he had tried to cook at home for my mom but he burnt it or something… Anyway. My dad.”

“Gosh, I’m jealous,” Bitty admitted.

“Mmh?”

“That your parents seem to have understood that we don’t want their interference and that you can now talk normally with them about the wedding. Mama is still not over the ‘Jewish ceremony’ part. And I’m just waiting in apprehension for her text when she’ll get the RSVP asking her to choose between only vegetarian options…”

“It’s not _only_ vegetarian… One of the two main dish options is fish.”

Bitty turned towards Jack, unamused.

“Jack.”

“Ok. Sorry. But like – You know I’m not your parents biggest fan currently. But; I can’t _all_ be negative right?”

“No, you’re right,” Bitty sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Mama told me she was going to send me her old copper jam pan. It was my great grandma’s – so, uh, I guess it means something that she passes it down to me? Growing up, she kept saying it would go to my future wife’s, even if _I_ was baking and using it all the time…”

“But now, she’s sending it to you.”

“Yeah. So that’s… A good thing, right?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

* * *

“I have _homework._ I graduated and now, I have _homework_ ,” Bitty complained.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Holster replied.

Bitty had joined Ransom and him near their work building so they could spend the lunch break together in a small bistro – and in between two tales of office shenanigans and Holster’s last conquest, Bitty talked a bit about wedding planning.

Apparently, he and Jack met with the rabbi this morning to prepare some more the ceremony, and the rabbi had not been too impressed that even after a few meetings, Bitty still had to be explained most terms and ceremony. So he had given him a lot of reading to do and Bitty now had, in his car, books with way too many pages.

“Honestly, I thought that Christian, Jewish, there weren’t many differences, but ever since I moved in with Jack I realise I’m entering a whole new world.”

“Oy, our goodie-two-shoes ol’ boy has turned frum, that’s why,” Holster explained, his mouth full of hamburger. “Look, I think I’m doing too, I’m not eating a _cheese_ burger.”

“Mmh, Bits,” Ransom asked, dipping a frie in mayo, “you’re sure about the Jewish wedding? Because if you feel like it’s something that bothers you more than not…”

“No. Yes. I mean. It’s complicated, yes,” Bitty started, “but it really means a lot to Jack. Meanwhile… Well, for the ceremony, what is really important to me is that we get to walk together down the aisle and we pronounce our own vows, and I get to have that. And I don’t mind the Jewish ceremony, I actually enjoy what I learn about it, it’s just that it’s _a lot_ of things to learn.”

“But only Jack’s religion is represented,” Ransom insisted, putting even more mayo on the poor frie. “You’re sure you’re not disappointed to not have yours, too?”

“Mmh. I mean. I don’t believe in nothing, I guess; but I don”t really believe in anything either. So no, it doesn’t bother me that Jack’s religion and culture will be represented; plus, I mean. It’s still a wedding in the States, so by definition there will be plenty of elements of my _own_ culture in the whole thing. It’s just that, as it’s the major culture here, people don’t even realise their experience isn’t universal.”

“Wise words coming from such a small man,” Holster nodded.

“Oh for _fuck’s sake¸_ I have a normal size- Ransom, hun, you’re going to eat this horror? You need to _stop_ with the mayo, really, it’s repulsive…”

* * *

Jack was ironing in the living-room when Bitty and Dex came back (they had spent the afternoon at a chocolatier’s shop for one of Bity’s videos, and Dex was here to film him). Dex waved him hello, while Bitty walked up to him to greet him with a peck on the lips.

“How was the shooting?” Jack asked his fiancé.

“Great! It was fun, and the guy was cool about it all. I’ve got some chocolate eggs we made in a bag,” Bitty said. “I do need to take a shower, though.” While saying that, Bitty showed himself; he had, indeed, chocolate on his sleeves, his arms, under his nails, on his face and in his hair.

“What happened to you.”

“Nothing.”

“Mmh, I have footage of you falling while holding a pan full of choco-”

Bitty turned towards Dex, aghast.

“How dare you.”

“I’m just saying things as they are, boss,” Dex shrugged, putting the GH5 he had around the neck on the counter of the kitchen.

“Don’t tell such things in front of my fiancé, please. He needs to think I’m cool.”

“Sorry, Bittle, but I already know you’re a loser,” Jack said.

“Uh,” Bitty groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m all sticky. I’m really gonna shower,” he added, before leaving the room.

Dex sat on ones of the stools of the counter, and started to verify the camera’s bag wasn’t missing anything.

Jack finished to iron his short and the next, before turning off the iron.

“Wanna drink something?” Jack asked, pushing the laundry basket still half-full of wrinkled clothes under the ironing table to save some space.

“Won’t say no to something fresh,” Dex said, still focused on the camera bag.

Jack almost walked on Kinigl, the smallest of their two bunnies, on his way to the kitchen. Seriously. This one didn’t seem to understand how tiny he is. He had free range in the entire apartment, why did he keep trying to stay under their feets?

“You’re staying for dinner?” Jack asked, while filling two glasses with sweet tea from the fridge.

“I mean, if you invite me, of course. It’s _steak night_ at the Haus.”

“It’s Chili Sin Carne night here. Bitty prepped it yesterday.”

“Oh, _perfect_. There’s a vegan baby Frog, but he’s barely coming over at the Haus. I miss Bitty sometimes.”

Jack sat on a stool across from Dex, who was finishing inspecting the bag and putting back everything in place to close it.

“How do you manage school, captaincy _and_ a job?” Jack asked, as he pushed his glass toward Dex.

“I only need five hours of sleep a night. And I took all the hardest required classes the previous years. School is a breeze this year, really. Plus, Bitty doesn’t ask me that much. Help with a shooting here and there, edit a bit. I told him he could give me more stuff to edit, but he refuses.”

“He doesn’t want you to be swarmed in work and he wants you to focus on school.”

“Uh. Is school really that necessary when he already has printed my contract to hire me full-time next year?”

Jack just looked at Dex, unimpressed.

“What? I know he did. He asked _me_ to print it.”

“Dex. Focus on school and get your diploma and take care of your team. You’ll get more work from Bitty once you’re done with all that. Also, enjoy time with your husband while you still live together.”

It was Dex’s turn to look unimpressed. He rolled his eyes and sighed, groaning a ‘Yes dad’ just as Bitty joined them in the kitchen, a towel around his neck to dry his hair.

“Sweetpea, can you answer your Mom’s mail regarding the registry?” Bitty asked, sitting next to Jack. “She just texted me.”

“Urgh. I don’t know why she insists on a registry to share to the family. _They’re not invited._ ”

“And we’re loaded as fuck.”

“Yes that too. But really. They’re not invited.”

Bitty shrugged at that, playing with his phone in his hand.

“You’ve got no registry?” Dex asked.

“No. What for?”

“Mmh. That’s the one thing I regret about eloping,” Dex stated. “We didn’t have a registry. So now I’m moving in an apartment by myself next year and I don’t have pans not a toaster.”

“Do you want pans and a toaster Dex?” Jack asked. “We have a hundred pans and three toasters.”

“Jack you don’t get it. It’s not just that. There’s _so much_ free shit we could have had and that I don’t want to have to _pay_ because it’ll just be for one year, until Whiskey graduates and sign in an NHL team with an NHL salary. I do not have _plates_ Jack. I don’t even have a blanket. Honestly, look for registries. You’ll realise there’s so much things people can get for you. Things you don’t even know exist.”

“We _already_ have the NHL salary Dex,” Bitty said.

“Yes, but free shit. And people just refuse to come to weddings with their hands empty, you know? If you don’t have a registry you’ll get swarmed under gifts anyway.”

“We’ll donate everything anyway,” Bitty said.

“Then, let’s ask for stuff we can donate,” Jack replied.

To Dex’s and Bitty’s frowns, he added;

“I mean. We’ve already notified on the invites that we didn’t want gifts and that all the money we’d get would go straight to the Zimmermann Foundation, right? So if people absolutely want a registry, let’s ask the shelters downtown what they need and if guests – and not-guests apparently – want to gift something, they can directly gift it to the shelters it’d be donated to anyway.”

Bitty crossed his arms, lost in thought, but Dex raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. I get and agree with the sentiment, but wouldn’t it be a bit tacky? Like, “hey, look how generous we are, we’re so great” and all that.”

“Oh. Maybe. I don’t know,” Jack frowned.

“We could ask around if it’s a good idea or not. But until then…” Bitty groaned. “We still need to reply to your mom.”

“Anyway Bits, we need to accept that registry or not, charity or not, guests or not, we’ll still get three ugly seder plates and four menorot and fifty cheques to our names,” Jack sighed. “There’s no way around it.”

* * *

“Allo?”

“Hi Alicia!”

“Oh! Eric! You’re not watching the game?”

Bitty adjusted the phone between his ear and his shoulder, to go through the pile of papers on his desks to look for his checklist.

“The game? He’s got 82 of those every season, I’m not gonna watch them all. No, I just stopped by at work anyhow, needed to see one of the other cooks but he’s still in class so anyway- You got the link to our registry to share?”

“I’m not sure that a webpage redirecting to 5 different associations and foundations’ donations pages was what people expected when requesting for your registry.”

“That’s all they’ll got! Honestly there’s nothing we want. We have enough money.”

“I know, I know… Oh, while I have you – I wanted to ask. About the rehearsal dinner.”

Ah. The rehearsal dinner. Bitty and Jack had forgotten about the existence of this thing until last week.

“Traditionally, it’s the groom’s family that plan and pays for it, right?” Alicia asked. “But it’s not really a thing in Jewish ceremonies, they shouldn’t be rehearsed, and there’s two grooms, so… If you want a rehearsal dinner, and not have to organise it yourselves, we’d be happy to let your parents take care of it? We could help with the bill of course…”

“We probably won’t have one,” Bitty replied. “we’re getting married on a _Tuesday_ , so all our friends are working the day before – they had to take enough days off for us like that.”

“Ah. I see…”

Bitty took a few seconds, his eyes on the well-used checklist he had printed off the Internet.

“Mmh… But I think everyone has the _day after_ off anyway. Even if just to survive the hangover. So we had talked about having a wedding brunch? Maybe you and Bob could plan it if you want to?

* * *

**SQUAD – Wedding Extravaganza Bungaloo**

_Shitty renamed the chat **SQUAD – TURBO BACHELOR PARTY**_

****

_Bitty_  
> Oh boy, here we are.

_Holster_  
> YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH  
> I was born for that

_Shitty  
_> YES YES YESH  
> I make the most of my lunck break wat do you watn

_Jack_  
>> did you know that in French it’s called “enterrement de vie de garçon”  
>> funeral of boy life

_Lardo_  
> oh god

_Shitty renamed the chat **SQUAD – FUNERAL OF OUR BOYS LIVES**_

_Jack_  
>> :-(

_Jack renamed the chat **SQUAD – TURBO!! FUNERAL OF OUR BOYS LIVES**_

_Shitty_  
> jack I loev you  
> mary me

_Jack_  
>> you’re not powerful enough to handle me

_Holster_  
> SO GUYS.  
> What are we DOING  
> Which clubs are we HITTING

_Ransom_  
> How many litres of tub juice are we INGESTING

_Holster_  
> There’s this club in pvd  
> the cha

_Bitty_  
> Okay so first of all we’re not going to a STRAIGHT CLUB. Out of the question  
> Second of all we’re not going into a club. Jack doesn’t do clubs

_Lardo_  
> You sure you don’t want two bachelor parties?

_Bitty  
_> Yes!!!!!!!  
> If you want to go club just ask me another time ill gladly join but we want 1 common bachelor party

_Ransom_  
> I may have a Plan  
> Shitty has connections.

_Lardo_  
> Oh, spooky.

_Ransom_  
> Of course it’d require that everyone can take a few days off and for jack to foot the bill

_Jack_  
>> Isn’t that the groomsfolks only job to pay for the bachelor party

_Ransom_  
> I mean we could pay for it but then don’t complain when we come live on your couch because we can’t make rent this month

_Jack_  
>> what’s your plan.  
>> and your mysterious connection

_Ransom_  
> JACK YOUR FAMILY OWNS A MEGA FAMOUS CABIN  
> It was IN MAGAZINES  
> Shitty, go ask his dad about getting it for one weekend

_Lardo_  
> FUCK YEAH

_Jack_  
>> so your second plan after clubbing right here, is to get lost in the Canadian wilderness with no Internet

_Lardo_  
> wait uh there’s no internet

_Bitty_  
> Don’t worry Lards there’s wifi, just no 4G  
> I actually like this idea  
> We can get as S L O S H E D as we want  
> enjoy the place  
> there’s a sauna and a HUGE jacuzzi and a pool

_Holster_  
> Yeah and we can do boring old man stuff for jack toon like fishing and playing lego

_Bitty_  
> no!!!! no fishing!!!! No one kills animals on our funeral of our boys lives!!!!

_Jack_  
>> also lego are cool

_Ransom_  
> *drunk Lego are cool

_Shitty_  
> I just had Bobbie on the phone

_Jack_  
>> do not call my father bobbie

_Shitty_  
> We can have the cbin when we want we just hav to say the word  
> who is comin?  
> just us or other folks too

_Jack_  
>> I’d like for tater to come

_Bitty_  
> The frogs too????? I miss them ༼ ༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ༽

_Shitty_  
> uuh send us the guestl list  
> lets just invite everyone

_Bitty_  
> hey  
> curate this list correctly okay?  
> it’s y’all’s one and only job

_Lardo_  
> let’s make a doodle for our free dates first, we’ll see the other guests later…

* * *

“Nine cakes, Shitty. There’s nine cakes.”

“Ah, don’t worry… They’ll narrow it down quickly.”

“It _is_ the narrowed list.”

Jack made a sign to the Uber driver to signal he was there, and he hoped at the back of the car, his hockey bag next to him. He had a game against the Rangers tonight, so Bitty came with him the night before in New York so they could see the tailor for some more adjustments – and he and Bitty could meet with the chef who would make the wedding cake. Bitty and him had already exchanged a lot beforehand, so when they arrived for the testing, it was _fourteen_ cakes that were waiting for them. Jack had just enough time before having to go to the rink before the game to help rule out a few with textures/tastes he found weird, and to give notes to the others to help Bitty chose, but yeah. When he left, there was still _nine cakes_ in competition.

“I feel like Bitty isn’t coming to the game tonight,” Jack sighed.

“Ah, it’s okay. Nine cakes left, and there need to be two, right? Or three?”

“Two, there’s only two tiers. But it’s easier said than done, Shitty. I had suggested, I don’t even remember which flavours, but our two favourite ones, and both Bitty and the guy were like: ‘Peanut at the bottom and mango at the top? You’re kidding right?’ I mean – they were this close to call me an heretic. So yeah. It’s going to take time.”

“But Bitty is enjoying himself at least?”

“Oy vey, he’s having the time of his life. But I have to admit I’m happy I have the game to have an excuse to run away from this one appointment.”

“I’m never getting married,” Shitty said. “But if I do, I just want a pot brownie. But I won’t.”

“I promise I’ll stop you from getting married, Shitty,” Jack said with a fond tone, rolling his eyes.

“You’re a real bro, Jackabelle.”

“Hey, about not getting married – how is your better half? How was the opening at the gallery last night?”

“Uh, a mess, Jack, let me tell you- the artist arrived late and drunk, and her boss was so freaking _angry_ …”

* * *

“I know it’s a lot of things, Mama, but I summed it all the program and what you should do in the e-mail.”

“I don’t understand most of it, Dicky. I’ve never seen a wedding like that.”

“There’s also a website that will explain to you everything more in detail, and if you have questions you can call or e-mail, okay?”

“It’s really a lot.”

“Mama, please learn.”

“Listen, the whole situation is already… Hard for us to understand, okay? The whole… _Well_ , _Jack_ is a great guy, but-”

“But nothing. Don’t finish your sentence, Mother. Jack is a great guy, we’re getting married, it’s a Jewish wedding. I’m not asking much of you. Just to, literally, stand by my side while I’m marrying him. Just to support and love me and be happy for me. I know that this wedding is the _contrary_ of what you had envisioned for me, but that’s what will make me happy, okay? I’m not asking much, Mama. I’m your only son. Please be here for me.”

When the phone conversation was over, Bitty had to stop for a few moments on the side of the road to breath deeply.

In, hold it, out. 

His phone buzzed. He took a quick look.

**Wicky, Bitty**

> We’re having a married & married-adjacent hockey gay guys dinner @home next week you in

In, hold it, out. 

>> Hell yeah  
>> How much alcohol are we talking about

> Yes


	5. Funeral of our boys lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, my, it’s me?” Gothy asked. “I’m the bad omen? Crisse, this is so cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ! Sorry for the late update - I was focused on my [Reverse Big Bang Entry ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669340) which is. A big baby that took a lot of time and energy. 
> 
> There's one chapter left - The wedding being a 3rd of July, I'd like to update then !
> 
> Gothy is the Gothy from [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16639730). He's from Montreal too and knows Jack since forever, and he's also playing in the NHL

“One more glass of wine, Bitty?”

“No way. I’m driving back…”

“Yeah, no, you _sure_ aren’t driving, both you and Jack drank too much already…”

Bitty rolled his eyes, but he pushed his wine glass towards Wicks, who proceeded to fill it to the brim.

“You’re supposed to only half-fill glasses so the wine breathes,” Jack said.

“Jack, you silly boy, wine doesn’t breathe, it’s dead grapes,” Ollie corrected.

“God. We’re really bad at playing adults,” Wicks admitted.

“You kidding, right?” Dex said.

All things considered, Wicks and Ollie were very good at playing adults. They had stable jobs with a perspective of evolution, were homeowners (well, they inherited it from Ollie’s late father, but still), had a dog, probably didn’t need to google how to do taxes, and were married already. Bitty wondered what they needed to be even more adult. Kids maybe?

“Do y’all want to have kids?” Bitty asked as he was sipping his Nth glass of wine, because he needed to know.

Ollie turned towards him, an eyebrow raised.

“Y’all, y’all, or y’all, us?”

“Yes?” Bitty replied.

“Well,” Wicky replied, shrugging. “We talked about it. Ollie’s mom won’t stop badgering about it anyway. Well, we want to wait a few years still, maybe when we get in our thirties? We’d like to travel first. Enjoy our twenties. Probably change jobs, because consulting pays good but I don’t feel like I can do it until I retire.”

“Yeah, we’re not in a hurry,” Ollie confirmed. “But yeah, later, definitely. Not sure how. We read a lot, and I admit I quite like the concept of co-parenting, but hey. We still have time to think about all that. And you two? You’re gonna have kids as soon as you get married?”

“Oh, maybe they already are having kids. It’s maybe a shotgun wedding,” Wicks proposed.

“Haha. Yeah, well, Bittle and I have been trying for children for a while now, but no success,” Jack joked. “Even if we have insane amount of sex.”

“Will you stop, you,” Bittle mock-threatened. “There’s kids here!”

Dex and Whiskey just raised their eyebrows at that.

“The kids were married before you,” Whiskey pointed out.

“And I’ve heard way worse from you, boss,” Dex added.

“Shh! But to reply to you Ollie – yes we plan to have kids, with surrogacy. Not right after the wedding. We’ll wait a year and then discuss if we want to start now or wait some more.”

To be honest, Bitty was pretty sure that Jack was already ready. It was little stuff like that that reminded Bitty that Jack was almost five years older, after all. But yeah, maybe a year after the wedding Bitty would feel ready too? At least he trusted Jack enough that if he was not, Jack wouldn’t be angry or disappointed.

“I spent the last decade preparing my dad jokes,” Jack said. “I’ll be the best father out there.”

“Is that a challenge?” Ollie asked.

“Of course?”

“Will you stop? The best fathers will be the ones doing their best, and me of course,” Wicks said. “Please note that my dad is _not_ on the list.”

“I’m not even certain of how to write my father’s first name,” Dex sighed.

“And mine considers that all communication between me and him can be done through my mother,” Bitty added. “And my mother doesn’t communicate with me those days, so.”

He took a long sip of wine at that, and filled again immediately his glass under the scrutiny of his friends.

“It’s that bad?” Dex asked.

“Listen. I admit I’m a bit of a stubborn head-”

“ _A bit_ ,” Jack pointed out.

“-but. The apple didn’t fell far from the tree. My mama is _extremely_ vexed that I refused her help with the wedding planning, and from that every single choice we made was a bad one… Ah, just imagine her reaction when I told her we weren’t getting married in Georgia – but I mean, mother, where would we get married there? Your backyard, a church, or a plantation? Because there’s three places where I don’t want to get married; your backyard, a church, and a plantation.”

“Don’t tell me,” Wicks said. “We let our parents get involved in wedding planning at to this day, it’s my only regret about the wedding.”

“That being said, we were planning it while still in college and they were paying for it,” Ollie pointed out.

“Yes, but the money clearly had strings that I didn’t like. And are we going to mention your mom who came in a white bridal dress? Because I’m not over your mom coming in a white bridal dress. I don’t care there’s no bride ‘to outshine’. You don’t do that.”

Ollie didn’t reply, just grabbed one of the mini-pies Bitty brought and he rolled his eyes while munching it.

“The more time passes, the more I realise eloping was the best thing to do,” Whiskey admitted, playing with his wine glass.

“Truly was. The only planning we had to do was gathering the papers,” Dex added.

“We don’t all have it in us to have a surprise wedding, Dex,” Ollie said. “Some of us prefer to be out in the open about their relationship and their engagement…”

“It wasn’t that much of a _surprise_.”

“Of course it was a surprise that you got married. Dex, we were barely over the fact that you were dating _Whiskey_ ,” Bitty said.

“How was _that_ surprising?”

Ollie, Wicks, Jack and Bitty all shared an uneasy look, while Dex and Whiskey were frowning at them, not sure if they had to get angry yet.

“Dex, we all thought you were going to end up with _Nursey_ ,” Jack finally admitted.

“ _What_?”

Ah. Apparently it wasn’t the right answer.

“Well you obviously had this huge crush on each other…” Ollie, a bit too drunk, started.

“I _hated the guy!_ ”

“Well, Jack and I also hated each other at first…”

“ _Stop!”_

* * *

“Why can’t people just _reply_ to the RSVP!” Jack groaned.

They were meeting once again meeting with Alan to go through the last things to communicate with vendors, and it was taking way longer than first expected. 

“Guest maybe don’t feel like they need to because they see you two regularly,” Alan replied. “But it’s definitely a problem in every wedding.”

“Everyone told me ‘no need, I told you I was coming’ – still! It’s much easier to have the papers with your _menu’s choice_ in front of us! Why can’t people understand that?”

“At least three people altered the menu to request for meat,” Bitty pointed out, going though the RSVP they got back. “And all the songs they requested are terrible.”

“Thirdy asked me three times last week if his kids really weren’t invited. You’ve had your invitation for a few months now, that’s only now that you wonder?”

“My parents didn’t even replied to the RSVP yet… And neither did _anyone_ in our wedding party. Cool, guys, we know you’re going to be here. _The caterer still needs to know what you eat.”_

“Guests are what make my job so difficult,” Alan just sighed.

* * *

“I need your opinion,” Bitty said, entering the Haus an afternoon the next week.

Ransom and Holster were watching TV, and frowned at their friend. Bitty took off the Falconers cap he was wearing.

He had, once again, dyed his hair. Pastel green at the top, and his undercut coral red.

“… You look like a strawberry,” Holster said.

“The tailor mentioned those colours would work well with the suit! I’m trying to find which I like better!”

“Neither,” Ransom honestly replied. “A big fat strawberry.”

“It’s not that bad,” Bitty defended.

“But it _is_?”

“I’ll choose one or the other. Not both.”

“Bitty ‘Strawbitty’ Bittlemann.”

“Oh, God - It’s not permanent, the green will wash out soon. The red will be buzzed off in two weeks anyway.”

“Do you want us to buzz it off immediately?” Ransom asked.

“It is _not_ that bad!”

“Gosh, when you’re angry you turn so red in the face,” Ransom said.

“ _Strawbitty_.”

* * *

**Bitty, Jack**

>> Hi Bits  
>> Hows work

> Exhausting  
> I taught the beginners class this morning let me tell you It is NOT my favorite  
> How was practice

>> Good. Off-ice conditioning  
>> There’s a package at home from you  
>> From your parents  
>> Should I open it? I don’t know if there’s food

> ??? they didn’t tell me they sent something  
> You can open it

>> Ok  
>> [Picture; the package box is in the background, open, and a lot of bubble wrap – on the foreground, Jack is holding an old pocket watch.]  
>> There’s no letter, just a note hoping it didn’t get damaged during delivery.

> ………  
> it’s my great-great-?-grandfather pocketwatch  
> ah, it’s the only family heirloom my dad has, his older siblings got everything  
> he told me he had this only because he took it when no one was watching haha

>> Well. Now it’s yours, I guess  
>> As yours as a stolen good can be, at least

> lol  
> you can put it on the counter, I’ll take care of it when im back

>> It’s not working

> it never did  
> there’s a reason why no one was watching it ha

* * *

Lardo and Holster arrived early with Bitty in Montreal to prepare the bachelor weekend, do grocery shopping, and prepare the cabin. Shitty, Jack and Ransom hadn’t been able to take one more day off, but they had been tasked to coordinate the arrivals of all the guests the following day.

The Zimmermann’s cabin was lost in the Quebecois wilderness, near a Lake and in a place where GPS was random at best and cell phones didn’t work well.

Bitty had the occasion to go there the past year for a huge family reunion, but in between the almost seventy people sleeping inside or all around the lake he didn’t get to appreciate the place correctly.

He didn’t even get to try the jacuzzi. It’s terrible.

“So, what’s the plan?” Lardo, who was sitting at the back of the car, asked while Holster was checking on a map at every turn if Bitty wasn’t loosing them.

“Well,” Bitty replied, non-committedly pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to the trunk of the car, filled with mountains of beer.

“That’s a good plan,” Holster agreed. “Can I have one now…?”

“No! It’s nine AM!”

They finally arrived in time to start some lunch and try to set up the cabin. Turn on gas and electricity, put on some clean sheets on every bed (and for Holster and Lardo, save the best rooms for themselves), turn on the cleaners for the pool and the jacuzzi, baking, cooking huge plates of food in advance, and filling the two fridges with all the beers.

“That’s a well-conducted affair,” Holster said once the last made was made, cracking open some bottles.

“We should cut some wood if we want to make a campfire,” Bitty replied, both hands busy neatly aligning zucchini slices over the lasagna sheets in a huge plate.

“Arrrrrh…” Holster groaned.

“Do you want S’mores or not?”

 _“Aaaaarh._ I hate you, _”_ he said. “I’ll do it later if you help.”

* * *

“Shruti!!”

“Bitty!!”

“What are you doing here?!” Bitty shouted, hugging her close.

Everyone hadn’t even come out of the two cars yet, and Bitty had already jumped at his friend, having her carry him in the middle of the driveway, forcing everyone to do detours with their bags.

“Surprise!!!”

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Bitty said, getting off her, but still hugging. “I didn’t know they invited you, as you can’t come to the wedding…”

“Ah, and second surprise – I _can_ make it to the wedding.”

At that, Bitty took a step behind, and he said, calmly, grinning, both hands on her shoulders:

“Listen, you’re my friend and I’m so happy that you can make it to the wedding in the end, but we confirmed our numbers the other day with the caterer and the baker so you’re kinda annoying.”

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m not _that_ rude. I told your boy I’d make it and to keep it a secret until now,” she said, pointing in Jack’s general direction with her thumb. “I sure hope he gave the correct numbers.”

“You’re all forgiven, then. Now let’s get you inside before there’s no good room left for you…”

* * *

Not everyone could make it to the bachelor party, sadly. Chowder and Nursey were here, but Dex and Whiskey had declined the invitation because they were on a cycling trip before the wedding and Whiskey’s prospect camps – and Tango and Ford both had summer jobs that wouldn’t let them have both the bachelor weekend _and_ the wedding day off. Ollie & Wicks were here, of course, and from the Falconers, only Tater made it; Snowy, as a ‘youngster’, had been invited too, but he had prior engagements.

But twelve people were more than enough, especially when they start to drink at eleven AM. Bitty was more than happy to enrol Ransom and Holster into passing around plates of food to share to everyone chatting on the patio, while he could enjoy some time in the kitchen with Jack bound to his hip, as usual.

“I missed you…”

“I just arrived here one day before you, sweetpea,” Bitty teased, as he was putting some mini quiches straight from the oven on a plate.

“Mmh… Still too much…”

“Well… When everyone will be busy this afternoon, we could take some time to catch up…”

“Heeeey! Même pas que tu m’attends!”

Jack and Bitty startled at that and turned around, close to the heart attack – in the doorway of the kitchen, a tall, blond man with long hair and an old band t-shirt was standing, a bag on his back.

“Ah. Gothy,” Jack said, once he caught his breath.

“Gothy. It’s been a while,” Bitty added.

Bitty had only seen the guy once or twice, when the Dallas Stars (where he was playing as a D-man) were playing in Providence. But the guy had been Jack’s friend and teammate during their whole time in Juniors, and his classmate even before that – so of course, Bitty had heard his fair share of stories about him, and he was a wedding guest. Bitty wasn’t sure he was on the bachelor week end list, though.

“Yep! A little bird told me about a party at The Cabin this weekend. That’s your dad. Your dad is the little bird,” Gothy said, putting on the counter a 36-pack of beers. “I sure hope no one took _my_ room and that there’s a cocktail or fifty with my name on them…”

He left the kitchen, whistling some song. Well. Gothy.

“I totally forgot to ask Shitty to invite him,” Jack said.

“He still made it, so let’s not mention it.”

Jack and Bitty finally took the champagne and some glasses and joined everyone on the patio, so they could officially start this ‘funeral of boys’ lives’ with their friends. Champagne got sabred open, glass were filled, Bitty gave a small toast because really, any occasion to give a toast should be taken, and the festivities began – still nice and proper, of course, it wasn’t even noon on their first day here. Tater and Gothy had gravitated around Chowder, recognising him because he had just signed with the Barracudas of San Jose for next season, Shruti was talking about her first year as a PE teacher, Ransom and Holster were complaining about work – and, really, Bitty couldn’t wait tonight to get totally, absolutely smashed around a campfire.

“Oh my _God_ , we’re thirteen!” Wicks suddenly gasped.

“And?” Ransom asked.

“It’s bad omen. This party is going to be a disaster.”

“What are you talking about. It’s warm. It’s summer. We’re friends. There’s beer. Nothing bad can happen?”

“You don’t _get it_ , Ransom. It’s terrible news. Just because _he_ arrived late…”

“Oh, my, it’s me?” Gothy asked. “I’m the bad omen? Crisse, this is so cool.”

* * *

**Mama, Eric**

>> If I don’t reply to a text this week end, its because im in the Canadian wilderness and the reception is spotty

> What are you doing there????

>> ? Bachelor party  
>> I told you.  
>> The Zimmermanns lent us their cabin. It’s really great

> They seem to treat you like family already.

>> ??? I’m marrying their son in two weeks I sure hope they do  
>> I don’t know what you’re trying to do here

> Have fun.

* * *

“I won’t play Lego.”

Shitty was straight and clear in his declaration. No, he wouldn’t be playing Lego. It was a _bachelor party._ He had brought all he needed to make tub juice. He was here to get _schwasted_ , and not to play _Lego_ like a mere five-year-old.

Honestly, he wasn’t impressed by Jack who took the first opportunity after lunch to go build Legos in the living-room with Nursey and Ollie.

“Lego are cool,” Jack frowned.

“You’re a turbo-nerd, Jackabelle. I’m not touching those spawns of the devil. No, I’m going to jump in the lake naked and play drinking games and high-filed-hockey, like everyone during bachelor parties.”

* * *

[Video. It’s night and raining **really hard** outside. Lego are built all over the room, which is the observatory/lounge upstairs – they make up a structure that is holding some small pipes. Shitty, Ransom, Jack and Lardo are right next to the start, each holding respectively a yellow, green, blue and red marble. Everyone else around is cheering, when they put down the marbles in the pipes – and the race starts. Bitty follows the marbles with the camera, Holster next to him is commenting faster than his shadow. The red marble is first, followed by the yellow one-]

[-but in the first neck, both are turning around the hole and the green marble pass them, followed by the blue one – only to be slowed at the next obstacle. The race continues on a few videos, lasting five good minutes – everyone is following the marbles and cheering, and for everyone to be so into it it’s clear some money and alcohol are involved. The tracks spans several rooms, going down the cabin (the free run in the stairs was almost fatal to the blue marble) until the kitchen – under the cries of everyone, the yellow and red marbles are turning around the holes of a few necks, the last obstacles – until once again, the green marble arrives and rushes them and wins.

Ransom, the winner, gets carried by Holster and Tater over their heads while everyone is losing their minds.]

**@omgcheckplease** Funeral of our boys lives!! Unfortuntely it’s raining buckets, so we had to improvise with what we could do inside – thanks God there’s Lego and some marbles here.

@will-travel How drunk are you boss

@omgcheckplease I wont talk withut my lawyer. Sadly rn hes imparied 

@larduan special mention to shitty, who refused to even looked at the lego but five minutes into the storm had already built half the course and was taking bets

* * *

The first night had to be spent inside, because it was raining so hard.

Of course, the second day (afternoon. No one came out of their rooms before eleven.) was just as rainy. As people were one by one getting up to Holster was looking at the torrent of water from the kitchen’s window, drinking defeatedly his coffee.

“I just wanted to play hockey with everyone outside.”

“It’s okay,” Shitty tried to rationale. “We can take hockey sticks to the wedding and play at three AM when we’ll be too drunk to stand.”

“Oh, yes.”

“No,” Jack, who was making tea, immediately replied.

Shitty and Holster turned towards him, absolutely shocked, and even Lardo, who was still more asleep than not, raised her head. Jack looked around – it was only the four of them in the kitchen.

“I don’t want to have hockey in my wedding.”

“Why not?’” Holster asked. “You’re our favourite hockey robot.”

“Because,” Jack replied, “I’m not a hockey robot. Bitty and I came out with hockey, and got engaged with hockey – and I already got enough shit about it. I don’t want to have any more hockey in our wedding. Bitty and I are more than just hockey.”

The three others shared a look, not sure of what to say to that.

“Jack…” Shitty finally started, “you _know_ that Bity and you are more than just hockey, right?”

“Yes, _I_ do. People don’t.”

“And you care about what other people think, since?” Lardo asked.

“Listen, Jack,” Shitty said, “if you really don’t want any reference to hockey at your wedding, then so be it. But – if you feel like you need to prove something, you’re going to do it. You’re going to have a great ceremony and reception that both have nothing to do with hockey. You’re not a hockey robot, or your dad who married in a rink. And Bitty and you are more than hockey, that’s certain. But you’re still a bit hockey.”

Jack looked at him, pensive.

“Mmh.”

And on that, he left the kitchen with his tea.

* * *

“It won’t stop raining, right?” Ransom asked in the middle of a poker game.

“I knew it!” Ollie shouted. “It’s _his_ fault! We’re _thirteen_ , he brought bad vibes to this cabin!”

“Hey! I’m just here to party!” Gothy shouted back.

“Everyone, calm down!” Bitty cut off. “We can still do things!”

“I say, we kill Gothy,” Jack proposed.

“ _What?_ ” Shruti said.

“Yes, _what_?” Gothy asked.

“If we kill Gothy, we’ll be twelve once again and the sun will come back,” Jack shrugged.

“That makes sense,” Lardo admitted. “I say we kill him too.”

“Are y’all _kidding_?” Bitty shouted. “ _Killing Gothy?_ He’s _not_ the one of us who deserves to die first!”

“Wait, what.”

* * *

[Video of Ransom and Holster wrestling in the mud. It’s still raining buckets.]

**@larduan** Great weekend in Canada, except for the weather! It still made an unforgettable bachelor party, except for the foggy part after the fifth cup of tub juice

@birkholster oh you forgot?? Dude it was the best moment!!! When we managed to FINALLY HAVE some deets

@larduan NO I FORGOT THE DEETS

@birkholster we sure didn’t forget the deets YOU shared

@larduan 😐😐😐

* * *

“I think I made a mistake,” Bitty told himself. “What the fuck went through my mind?”

It was four AM. He was working in the morning; It was week -1 to the Big Day. And he had started to make little jam pots as wedding favours for the guests.

Only two dozen of guests. That should be easy, right? But he had decided to make everyone’s favourite flavour instead of one batch.

And now, for some reason, there were one hundred jam pots cooling in the kitchen.

Yes, now he was kind of happy he wasn’t the one baking the wedding cake.

* * *

☐ Going to New York one last time to have the suits fitted, and have someone in Boston who could fit Ransom, Holster, Shitty and Lardo’s.

☐ Coordinate to receive the cake and stock it in a fridge big enough.

☑ Finish the seating plan and schedule for the caterer.

☑ Greenlight the DJ’s playlist.

☐ Finish the few ballroom dance lessons they felt obligated to take to not look like idiots.

☐ Reception the Ketubah they commissioned to a local Jewish artist Jack loved and stash it somewhere safe.

☐ Reconfirm with everyone that they either took a AirBnB/hotel room in town or had a safe way to go back home, because there weren’t any Ubers in the small town the wedding was at.

☐ Have some last meetings with the rabbit to go over the whole ceremony one last time.

☐ Give the key to the neighbour so she could feed the rabbis.

Wait, no.

Jack really needs to sleep, like, yesterday.


	6. Halo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not the 3rd where I live anymore, but it's likely still the 3rd where YOU live, so I managed my challenge !
> 
> This wedding obviously takes place on the 3rd of July, 2018. Weddings on the 3rd of July, 2020 are probably quite different. 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this last chapter ! Obviously, Halo is the theme song of the wedding, if you don't know what to listen to while reading.

**Mama, Eric**

>> so the cheapest tickets are on the Tuesday morning – photos and cocktail start at the end of the afternoon, the ceremony around seven, reception after  
>> Or would you rather come on Monday to help out?  
>> Alicia and Bob arrive on Monday

> Oh, now you need help

>> Oh you can also stay in your hotel room if you prefer 😄😄

> I’m just saying Jack’s parents are much more involved in this event than us.

>> Of course you’re not involved. JACK AND I are involved.  
>> And, a wedding. This “event” is a wedding.  
>> So don’t forget to bring your best business-casual outfit.

* * *

“Ok, so- We’re here tonight to give you gifts,” Lardo started, standing up in front of the couch she sat Jack and Bitty on, with Shitty, Ransom and Holster hovering near the billiard table.

“Lardo, we said we didn’t want gifts-” Jack stopped her.

“Yes, but it’s not like, a coffee maker or _pans_ \- It’s a _personal_ gift. Boys!”

Ransom, Holster and Shitty pulled from behind the table a big, big flat wrapped gift that they gave her – knowing Lardo, it was very probably a painting.

“Didn’t want to bring it at the wedding, in case someone damaged it,” she explained. “Now stay here! We’re opening it for you so you can see.”

Holster and Shitty were more than happy to rip off the paper, and indeed, Bitty and Jack could see the back of a canvas. They turned it around once free of the paper, to show off the painting.

It was a very stylised, geometrical, painting of Faber, purely in Lardo’s style – big shapes, sharp colors, straight lines and precise circles.

“Wow…” Bitty said, making a sign to Lardo to bring it on their laps.

“That’s. Impressive. Thank you so much, Lardo.”

“You’re welcome! When people ask you about it, don’t forget to tell them about my Instagram page.”

“I just have a question”, Bitty asked, as he looked more closely to it. “Here, the markings on the ice – are those boobs.”

“That’s totally boobs,” Jack said. “I didn’t know you could make faceoff circles look _so much_ like boobs.”

“Listen, I’m an artist with a _theme_. I need to have a dick or boobs in every one of my pieces.”

Bitty quickly stashed the canvas to the guest room so the rabbits wouldn’t munch on it before they had the time to put it on the wall, and when he came back to the living-room, Jack had a confused look while their groomsfolk all had smug faces.

“That was the start. We also have gifts,” Shitty said, pushing Bitty on the couch.

“Oh, no.”

“Don’t worry-“

The boys pulled from behind the table another huge gift (seriously, how did they bring all of these without Bitty and Jack noticing?), that they had a hard time moving in front of the grooms.

“You can open this one,” Shitty said. “It’s my idea.”

“Shitty, I’m terrified,” Bitty replied, still getting up with Jack to rip the _Frozen_ wrapping paper and the carboard box.

Inside of it, there was a wooden globe, antique-looking, with some gold décor. The feet had some marks, so it probably had had a former life. Let’s be honest; it was clashing with the style of the apartment, and Bitty was _not_ a fan.

“And, the most important,” Shitty said, getting closer-

He then opened the globe – it was full of cans of Bud Light and solo cups.

Oh, an alcohol stash. Bitty was a fan now.

“Sorry, the whole budget went in the actual globe,” Shitty apologised, picking up a beer. “They’re warm.”

“This is so great, Shitty!” Jack said. “I love it!”

“Yup, yup,” Bitty agreed. “I didn’t know I wanted an alcohol stash.”

Honestly, Bitty wasn’t sure why he was so scared about the gifts, he thought, as everyone was cracking open a beer and sat on the couches. They were their best friends, they were getting married – of course they’d make thoughtful gifts.

Bitty was laughing at one of Shitty’s jokes when suddenly, the lights were turned off. He just had the time to find the switch to turn on the floor lamp behind the couch that Ransom and Holster were already in front of Jack and him, holding a box and smiling like it was Christmas.

Ok. So he was right to be scared all along.

“Boys… You’re getting married in two days,” Ransom started.

“And we guessed that it was _also_ a gift that was not a good idea to give in front of company.”

“Goodness gracious.”

“Please, Bitty, Jack, take this small offering from us,” Hoslter said, tending the box.

“But don’t think about us too much while using it!”

Slowly, hesitantly, Bitty took the box and opened it – and closed it back immediately.

“What is- Oh, no. Nope nope nope nope.”

“What is it?” Jack asked, taking the box out of Bitty’s lap – and pulling out of it, a big, huge-

“NOPE. JUSTIN OLURANSI AND ADAM BIRKHOLTZ. HOW _DARE YOU-_ ”

“Oh my. Why is there a hole, and what are all those-” Jack started, going through the box, and finding the notice. “Oh. Oh they go inside. And then it goes inside – _oh._ That can’t be safe to use.”

“I AM- _MORTIFIED-_ ”

“You need a flared base, no? These- these are _risky_ … Well it says it’s safe to use, but I’m not so sure…”

“HOW? WHY?”

Ransom and Holster just shrugged.

“Well, sorry,” Ransom said.

“We didn’t know you’d hate it so much.”

Bitty threw them a death glare.

“Yeah, you can be sorry. I’m no prude, but you don’t gift those kinds of things to friends.”

“Don’t open it, we can send it back.”

“Well. Mmh. You don’t have to _bother_ to send it back, uh. Don’t worry,” Bitty quickly replied. “A gift’s a gift. Now can someone open some more beers, _please?_ ”

* * *

Shitty and Jack were the first two eliminated from the Mario Tennis tournament, so they took their drinks and stepped on the balcony to take some fresh air.

Shitty dropped on the couch there, and Jack joined him on the armchair right next to it, lighting the candle on the end table with Shitty’s lighter.

“Are you trying to charm me, Jackie-boy?”

“I know I won your heart years ago, haha.”

Shitty chuckled at that, and he laid more comfortably on the couch.

“Your _ass_ won my heart, not your manners.”

“Ah, and here goes my dream to be loved for more than my physique…”

“Don’t joke like that around Bits, haha.”

They stayed silent for a moment, just listening to the sounds of the city during the night and of their friends playing in the next room.

It was a perfectly ordinary July night. It was Canada Day, and it was warm, they were playing party games as usual, and Jack and Bitty will be getting married in two days.

Jack loved how normal everything was.

“I can’t wait to marry Bits.”

“He really brought out the best in you, bro.”

“I think so too. I hope I brought out good in him, too.”

“Ah, you did, you can be sure of it.”

“I’m just- I can’t wait to be able to say he’s my _husband_ , you know? I never thought I’d have a _husband_ one day. And even less someone like Bitty. I- I’d like to tell fifteen-year old me how great life becomes.”

“He’d probably wouldn’t give a shit, I fear. But I also can’t wait for you to get married, even if just to go to _sleep._ ”

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Jack shrugged.

“It is. And it’s not even _my_ wedding.”

“You _don’t want_ to have a wedding, Shitty.”

“Damn straight I don’t.”

“You just don’t want a wedding, or you don’t want to get married?” Jack asked.

Shitty frowned at him, unimpressed.

“What. Are you turning into my mother now? You’re trying to convince me I need to get married to advance in life?”

Jack sighed.

“Shitty. I’m trying to have a _discussion_ , not an _argument._ ”

“Well, I know how all discussions on the subject end up.”

“Shits, I’m your friend and I’m genuinely interested on why you don’t want to get married. No judgement.”

“Mmh.”

“Shits.”

“Okay, okay. It’s just… I don’t _believe_ in marriage and its value. Lardo doesn’t, either. We don’t need that. We don’t want a joint account, we don’t want the government to be involved in our stuff, and if we need some paperwork done to see each other at the hospital or for our wills, we’ll just do that. We don’t need anyone’s opinion to have kids… We work like that. We don’t need to prove our love to each other, or anyone else. I can’t think of a good reason to get married, truly. _Maybe_ if we can’t have kids naturally and we’re told we _need_ to be married to adopt or foster? But I don’t even know if we’d want to go this route or not, so. That’s a lot of ‘if’s. And you? Why do _you_ want to get married?”

Jack took a moment to reply.

“Because I can’t think of a good reason to _not_ get married. I love Bitty, I want to spend the end of my days with him, we live together, we already have shared finances, we want guaranties if there’s an emergency, it’ll be the easier for everyone involved when we’ll start to try for kids. I _do_ care about the values of marriage, religious and cultural. Marriage is starting a family, and, yes. I want to start a family with him, and to me it’s the logical first step to that.”

Shitty raised his can of beer that that, and Jack did the same.

“To your wedding, bro.”

“To your never-wedding, bro.”

* * *

**Jack Zimmermann** **✔** **@jackzmmnn01**

Not going to lie, lists of things making me so angry: - 1. people spelling my name with one ‘n’ - 2. people who can’t spell “fiancé.e”

**Jack Zimmermann** **✔** **@jackzmmnn01**

It’s fiancé if they’re a man, fiancée if they’re a woman. No “fianceé”, “finance”, “fianceee” or whatever. So, Bitty isn’t my ‘fiancée’. Deadspin, in between that and how you describe him in your last rag, once again, get lost

* * *

The day before was a blur. It was a Monday, so the botanical garden was open to the public until four PM, so they could only access it to set everything up then.

They went in the morning to Bitty’s favourite barber in Boston with Holster and Shitty – Ransom (who had an appointment tonight with his own) still accompanied them, while Lardo was working and had an appointment the following morning.

The barber was disappointed that Bitty decided to go with his natural hair colour for the wedding, to say the least.

“You can dye this bad boy whatever colour you want when I’m back from the honeymoon,” Bitty bartered.

“Uh, that’ll do. And so, for you?” he asked to Jack, pointing the beard he hadn’t been bothered to shave in the past week. “Hair, and clean-shaving, or styling?”

“I was thinking about keeping it,” Jack said, stroking his chin.

“You’re handsome with the beard,” Bitty offered.

“I know, you won’t shut up about it.”

Behind them, Holster breathed really loudly. Bitty turned around, confused.

“What now.”

“ _Well_. I mean. With you, so short, and _in_ shorts, and him, with a full suit and this beard… On the pictures it’ll look like a daddy who picked up some twink in a backroom.”

Jack and Bitty looked _horrified_ at him, while Ransom and Shitty had to fight to not openly laugh to their faces.

“Holster! You need to _stop_!”

“I think he’s making a point here,” Shitty pointed out.

“I want to be clean-shaved,” Jack immediately said the barber. “Not a hair left. If you can do a laser removal now, I want it-”

“Laser remo-? Let’s not put the cart before the horse here, sweetpea. A clean shave for today will be enough.”

“I promise to do my best so you look like you’re the same age,” the barber assured.

* * *

Jack was talking with Alan and the caterer to explain the schedule to Holster and Lardo while the tables were being set up, after reviewing the table plans and every guest’s meal – he felt like he had been discussing this schedule fifty time, with every single vendor. It was mechanical to recite by now.

Bitty and him would be starting pictures right after they grabbed something for a late lunch, then joined by their parents and their groomsfolks, and the guests had been told to arrive from 4 PM, but they’ll definitely be late, for some more pictures and a cocktail hour.

“So, a kabbalat panim?” Holster asked.

“I mean, we had planned it this way, and _then_ the rabbi reminded us that it actually was a thing in Judaism, _so. Anyway_ , after that – we gather everyone together right before the sun sets to have the ketubah and license signing -Holster and Ollie are signing the ketubah and Lardo and Ransom the licence-, and then we immediately have the ceremony. After that, there’s the yichud-”

“And _then_ , the hora,” Holster said.

“ _Yes,_ the hora-”

“ _Yes._ ”

“-and then the first dance I guess? And we serve the courses in between dances.”

“Dessert will be _well_ past midnight,” the caterer said.

“I think everyone is in AirBnBs and hotels in town so it won’t be an issue.”

“At what hour is the brunch your parents are organising the day after?” Lardo asked.

“Eleven at the inn they’re staying at. Right across your rental.”

“ _Eleven… Uuuuh…”_ Holster groaned.

* * *

Jack left them to walk around the place a little, to see everything being put in place – it should be raining tomorrow before a little late at night, so the dancefloor was right next to the king’s table everyone was going to share (no need for fifty small tables when you only have twenty-five guests) by the biggest greenhouse – there would be security ensuring people wouldn’t stray in the garden while intoxicated, and a tent was ready to be deployed if the rain was light. If it was stronger, they had access to the greenhouse.

The ceremony would be happening a bit farther in the garden, near a pound. When Jack arrived there, the benches were in place, and the huppah was already up and the florist was busy decorating it, adding flowers to the wood posts and the white drape – and Bitty was here too, sitting at the back of the benches, his eyes lost on the flowers.

“Hey buddy,” Jack said gently, sitting next to him.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m just… Watching…”

Bitty’s voice was small, and at the end of his sentence, he started to cry.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Jack gasped, hugging his fiancé close.

“Sorry… It’s just,” Bitty managed to articulate, in between two hiccups, “I’m watching her decorating the-the huppah, and I’m realising- We’re getting married!”

“Are those good tears?”

“Yes- Yes! I’m just- I’m totally overwhelmed. And I, I don’t know what to do with… all of that.”

“Hey. Everything is going to go well, okay?” Jack said, kissing Bitty’s head. “We’re going to get married and we’ll have the time of our lives.”

“I know, I know, it’s just… So many months of preparation just for tomorrow. I have a lot of emotions right now.”

“I do too. I’m probably going to break into sobs tonight, just to warn you,” Jack laughed. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Jack… I’m so glad I found this flyer for the hockey team and I decided to apply. I don’t know if I could have been half as happy as I am now without it.”

“I-” Jack was caught off-guard. “I’m so happy I decided to do hockey again after rehab. It was the hardest decision to make, and for years I wondered if I took the good one, and -I did. I definitely did.”

Bitty chuckled, and hugged Jack close.

“Are we really reciting our vows to each other?”

“Ah- well, we need to make sure they don’t sound too ridiculous, I guess?”

“ _This man_ … Everything you say _is_ ridiculous, Jack.”

“So Shitty was right… You’re really only with me for my physique.”

“Will you stop, you!” Bitty chastised. “ _Obviously_ I’m in for the _money!_ ”

“Oh, my bad. I accused you to be shallow, when you’re just a gold-digger…”

“Exactly! The audacity!”

“But glad to know you love hockey as much as me. Because let me tell you a secret – Holster’s car is filled with hockey sticks to play a shinny at three AM.”

“Oh, he did not.”

“He sure did, Bits.”

“Okay. Then, you’re on, sweetpea. Because I still want to revenge from the engagement game.”

“You honestly believe you have a chance?”

A cough cut them off – the florist was waving at them, showing the huppah.

“I need your opinions on how to decorate the posts…”

“We’re here, we’re here!” Bitty pressed, sitting up. “So, let’s see what we can do…”

* * *

Alicia and Bob arrived quite late in the afternoon (at the same time as Gothy who crashed right away in his hotel room), after the vendors had finished their day – what was left to install would be done in the morning. After dropping their bags at the inn they rented, they stopped at Bitty and Jack’s AirBnB for a coffee. It was a small apartment with a view on the garden, with an antique décor and a _nice_ vintage stove. Of course, when they arrived, Bitty was baking.

“I’m just finishing mini-pies!”

“We baked fifty of them yesterday morning,” Jack explained, “But Ransom was drunk during Mario Kart and he and the others dig into it.”

“I only need to make ten tonight,” Bitty defended. “Don’t worry.”

“So that’s, like…” Bob started. “Two per people?”

“Oh! You think I need to make more? Maybe if-”

“ _No_ that’s more than enough Bitty! There’s cake too and a whole meal before that! You finish those and then you turn off this oven!”

Finally, they were all sitting around cups of coffee, and two mini pies to share in four pieces. They discussed about the charity even Alicia and Bob went to this weekend, about the small town they were in, about the flight.

“Your parents are here already, Eric?” Alicia asked.

“The red-eye was the best option,” he replied, “so they should arrive tomorrow in the morning or around noon. Have I ever told you the story of _their_ wedding? My grandparents didn’t want them too close because they were too young, and they didn’t like my dad much – so after they caught them kissing, they told my Mama to choose, Coach or them. She chose Coach, they found a place and got married…”

“And nine months later, you were here?” Alicia smiled.

“Actually, seven months. I was an eight-pounds preemie, apparently,” Bitty shrugged. “But, anyway; at the wedding my Moomaw was still not talking to my mom, so she was persuaded they wouldn’t be coming… But right before the ceremony, my grandma and my grandpa arrived to walk her down the aisle, because my dad was making her happy, so that’s all that mattered.”

Jack didn’t react with more than a pinched smile at this story, that he had heard it fifty times the past weeks; his parents on the other hand, were intrigued.

“Oh, wow. Are dramatic arrivals a thing in your family?” Bob asked.

“That’s the only arrivals we can do, I fear…”

They discussed some more about the wedding, Jack showing them some pictures of the setting up of the venue he had taken today.

“And, that’s the huppah.”

“Oh, wow. That’s incredible,” Alicia said. “I’m starting to regret the rink wedding now.”

“We also had a synagogue wedding, Schatz.”

“And it definitely wasn’t _that_ pretty.”

“Alan is a pearl,” Jack said. He gave life to our vision, really. Knew all the right people, had the best ideas to enhance ours – the wedding wouldn’t be half of what it’ll be if it weren’t for him.”

“I really can’t wait to see it, Jack,” Alicia smiled. “We’re proud of you, boys. We’re so glad you have each other.”

“We are. Eric, you are the best thing that happened to Jack in a long time. We can’t wait to have you in the family.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait either,” Bitty sheepishly replied.

Jack could feel his parents’ heavy gaze on him, and on Bitty. Bitty must have caught something else here – because he fiddled with his phone, and two seconds later, Ransom was phoning him.

“It’s probably about- the playlist. I’m just gonna… Step outside to take it,” Bitty said, leaving the apartment with his phone.

When Jack turned back towards his parents when the door was closed, their eyes where just more intense.

“We’re so happy for you, Jack,” Alicia whispered in French, tears in her voice.

“I remember having you in my arms when you were born – when you ended up at the hospital. Jack, I’m so thankful to be able to be here today, when you’re so grown, so happy-”

“Maman, Papa…” Jack replied, trying not to cry. “I- I’m so glad to have you here, too.”

* * *

“Uuuuuuup!”

“Heeennn….”

Bitty didn’t want to get up. He was comfortable in Jack’s arms, they planned to have some nice, loving intimate times when waking. _Not_ have Shitty’s over-pitched voice waking them and opening the windows so the light would drown the room.

“It’s too early…” Jack complained.

“I don’t get why you didn’t want to spend you last night apart,” Ransom said.

“We spend enough nights apart as it is,” Bitty groaned. “Leave us alone.”

“No way! You need to prepare! The photographer will be here in any minute for the prep pictures.”

Jack checked his phone.

“He’ll be here in one hour.”

“You need to prep the prep, bro.”

“Where’s Lardo?” Jack asked, sitting up in the bed.

“Hairdresser. She should be here soon.”

“Do we need to wear the tuxes right now?” Holster asked, showing the pressing bag he had in hand. “We still need to eat before this afternoon.

“You all talk too much. Stop it,” Bitty complained. “I can’t take a decision now.”

* * *

The garden was starting to fill up nicely – Marty and his wife were the first to arrive, and the Tadpoles had carpooled and arrived right after. Everyone was arriving and hugging Bitty and Jack, and grabbing a glass on the way. When Kent and his boyfriend arrived, (Kent was rocking a suit and high heels; maybe a new game-day look for the upcoming season?) Jack made a sign to the photographer to remind him it was them who didn’t want to be on public pictures. Gothy had been here since the night before, but he still almost managed to be late for the pictures. Kent, Jack and him still got to take a beautiful one. Young Jack still in the Q would have loved to see it.

Bitty was having a blast taking pictures with everyone, even if he had spent the whole afternoon doing just that. Earlier today, him, Lardo and Ransom spent thirty minutes trying the best poses just to show off their short suits.

“So, what’s going to happen exactly at the ceremony?” Ford asked Bitty after a round of pictures.

“There’s programs here and there that explain all the big words and the schedule – but first we’re going to sign the papers, and then there will be the badeken -bedeken? I don’t know – the rabbi and Jack don’t say it the same way – where we’re going to put the kippa on each other’s heads, and then we start the ceremony, which will be quite similar to what you’re used to – we exchange rings, and vows, and drink a lot a lot of wine.”

“Then you break the glass?” Tango asked.

“Of course you know about the glass breaking. No, there’s the seven blessings first. _Then_ we break the glass and we go hide for a while and then the party begins.”

“And the meal,”

“Yes, Dex, and the meal. Of course.”

“We’re starting the ceremony in fifteen minutes,” Jack said to Shitty and Holster while everyone was mingling and Bitty was taking some pictures with his old teammates he had captained. “Holster, I need you to go to the caterer launch plan B.”

“Oh, no.”

“Ransom even checked if there had been accidents on the way here- but yes, it was a foregone conclusion.”

“What if they come late?”

“They’ll deal with the end of the table, then.”

“Ok. I’m going to commit a felony when I’ll cross their path, just saying.”

“Get in the line for that…”

Holster nodded and quickly left towards the building of the garden-turned-kitchen.

“Er, I- What should I be doing?” Shitty asked.

“Start to regroup people, we’re going to sign the papers soon,” Jack said, checking his watch, “then you bring them where the ceremony will happen and you go stand at the front with the others, and Bitty and I will enter. Also, take my phone. And make sure all the men have a kippah.”

“Yep, can do that.”

* * *

The ceremony was beautiful. The pictures were all stunning.

The photographer only had one picture of the yishud after it – taken right before the door of the small room of the greenhouse Bitty and Jack would be secluding to closed, of Bitty breaking into sobs and Jack rushing to hold him close.

* * *

“They didn’t come to our wedding.”

“Bitty…”

“I knew. I knew they weren’t here. I don’t know why I _hoped_ they’d just be late. I _knew_ they weren’t coming. I’m an idiot. They’re my parents and they didn’t come to my wedding.”

“Bitty. You’re not an idiot,” Jack said, crying silently in his husband’s hair. “You can never be an idiot to hope your parents will be here for you. It’s in their job description.”

“I’m sorry. It’s supposed to be a happy time, right? The first moments we spend together as a happy couple. And I’m crying and I’m just sad.”

“Bitty. I agreed to marry you in all the god and the bad, the highs and the lows. Something heartbreaking just happened. You have the right to be sad. You should be. It’s okay.”

“I’m just…” Bitty managed to say, before breaking into sobs. “I don’t want to speak to them ever again.”

“Alright.”

“You knew they weren’t coming, right?”

“I feared it.”

“I did too, but… I didn’t want to accept it.”

“It’s normal.”

Bitty sobbed for a few more minutes, and once he had calmed down, he was smiling a little between the tears.

“Feeling better, love?”

“Mmh. Well. I guess it answers the question of the family name that we hadn’t agreed on yet.”

“We’ll talk about that later, ok?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Let’s talk about something more cheerful, okay?” Bitty said, tapping his cheeks to pull himself out of his grogginess. “Can we talk about the pigeon who sat on Shitty’s shoulder mid-ceremony?”

“I really hope he’s going to adopt it,” Jack laughed.

“Oh, it would be wonderful. He’d be a hit in court…”

* * *

Bitty didn’t fall from the chair while they where hoisted up in the air during the hora, he didn’t mess the steps while Jack and he were sharing their first dance on Halo.

They still had the whole night. The meal, the toasts, the speeches, the cake and the mini-pies, the other dances, the sneaking through security to visit the garden in the moonlight – the shinny when everyone will be drunk, the wedding night, the brunch in the morning.

But he was in the middle of the dancefloor, dancing on the song he had his first kiss on, surrounded by his friends, his family – holding close his husband who was looking at him as if he had hung the moon.

Things won’t all be easy as pie in the years to come, that was certain. But in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, he knew someone would always have his back.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://insertatitlehere.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Other OMGCP works](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=1147379&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&commit=Sort+and+Filter&user_id=emimix3)


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